The New Girl
by TheSelfCriticalAuthor
Summary: America's curiosity created yet another problem. Confused -hiding more secrets than you know- Julie is holding onto a mask, which is partially tattooed to her face. Is it really that easy to escape from these subconsciously possessive, yet kind countries?
1. Prologue

**A/N; **This is my first fanfic, so no harsh words - but i'll greatly appreciate pointers. Sorry for the short and suck-ish prologue but I'm putting up the first chapter really soon. Maybe tomorrow... Translations at the bottom.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Hetalia I would be insanely happy.

* * *

** Prologue**

"And that concludes todays' conference. Meeting adjourned."

All the nations shot up from their red velvet-lined chairs in a desperate attempt to stretch their sore limbs. Sitting for two hours happened to take alot out of a person, or in this case - nation. Unexpectedly, today's world conference happened to be prolonged much to everyone's surprise, but nothing more than a few complaints from America came up.

And thus, the meeting played out as was expected; political news, economic rates and international relations were all discussed along with some usual bickering from a pair of Italian twins and 'the potato bastards'. Soon enough, everyone went their separate ways.

"Hey. Hey! HEY IGGY!"

England jumped from his seat and spun around to be greeted by a certain frowning American. A few looks about suggested that he hadn't been paying attention. He didn't even realize that everyone was either standing or about to leave. It wasn't like him to be so inattentive.

"Hey, Iggy. You 'k man? You been out of it lately. Come on, lets go - meeting's been done for a while."

England inwardly cursed at his so-called son's use of English. He couldn't believe this was the results of his 'parenting'.

"You bloody git! Use English correctly! It's 'the meeting's been done' not ' meeting's been done'!"

"There's the Iggy I know" the American exclaimed with a bubbly smile spread across his face.

Arthur couldn't help but smile at the boy's comment. He knew Alfred was good for something. This was probably one of those things.

"Alright then, lets go."

The two got up and started to head out.

"Anyway Iggy, why did you go over to that commie's house?"

"Alfred - I've told you already, it was strictly business. Our bosses have been getting along quite well lately. Nothing more." England huffed. Was his previous colony ever going to stop? But he was right. Good political relations was no excuse for Russias' creepy demeanor.

_** MWH**_

"Maman! On a des fraises?" Julie said wrist-deep in the fruit that usually sat ideally on their square mahogany dinning table.

"Non. Si tu veux, je peux sortir et acheter."

She stopped rummaging throught the fruit and skipped over to the kitchen where her mother was preparing lunch.

"Maman, may I have some St. Agur or non?" the girl said - greedily eyeing the fridge knowing well that the cheese drawer in it was stocked fully with exotic cheesses from France. Pulling her eyes away from the fridge and temping thoughts, she realized that the aged woman had put on her coat. But before she could ask any questions, her mother continued.

"Oh, attends. Tu peux surveiller la ratatouille pendants je sorts."

"Ok, how long will you be gone?"

"About une heure, je vais faire les courses. Donne-moi un bisou."

After a peck on the cheek, her mother left - leaving her to herself. Not that she didn't like being alone, it was just that she was more of a people person. Something started to tug at her indigo jeggings. She jumped in surprise but pouted when she realized it was only her cat. It started to meowl and bat its paws in the air.

"Ok, ok. Jeez~. God Minou, shouldn't you have exploded already from all the food we give you?"

That cat gave her a look of distress. _Probably from hunge_r, she thought. Julie wandered over to the little cupboard that sat between the fridge and the sink. Popping it open, she groped the contents until she pulled out a pearly white pastic scoop. Under a 'Glad Bag' garbage bag box sat a container about the same color. Carefully taking off the 'Glag Bag' box and then the cap to the container, she plunged the scoop into a pile of cat kibble. She measured the amount of food cautiously afraid that she would one day have to clean up the remains of certain cat that had imploded due to a too-good serving. Finally dumping the cat food into a metallic bowl and throwing everything back into place, the cheerful child skipped over to a leathery couch and jumped onto it - leaving the cat to it's meal.

"That cat is too fat, really!"

With a beige blanket draped across her legs, Julie took out her phone and began to type up some notes for a sketch. Then she pulled her sketch pad out from it's thin black sac and began to draw on a fresh page.

When she was just about done when the door bell rang. It couldn't have been her mother for an hour wasn't up but she was curious enough to go check who it was. She took the sketch pad and the phone with her to the door. Julie checked the ratatouille - just in case, and made her way to the door.

"Hello?"

No one answered her. She opened the door frustrated.

"Hello?"

But the only thing that greeted her was a blinding light.

* * *

**Translations;**

**French-**

[Maman! On a des fraises] Mom! Do we have strawberries?

[Non. Si tu veux, je peux sortir et acheter.] No. If you want, I can go out and buy some.

[St. Agur] A type of Rocquefort of the Pyrenees. Rocquefort is a cheese and the Pyrenees are french moutains that lie between Spain and France.

[Oh, attends. Tu peux surveiller la ratatouille pendants je sorts.] Oh, wait. Can you look after the ratatouille while I'm out?

[Ratatouille] An old french peasents dish made of various vegtables stewed together.

[About une heure, je vais faire les courses. Donne-moi un bisou.] About one hour, I'm going to do the food shopping. Give me a kiss.


	2. Someone New

**A/N; **Okay, something went wrong as usual, so I'm just reposing this.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia or a good sense of luck.

* * *

Ukraine clung to her brother's arm, desperate to stop him from going on a killing spree. She didn't care that she was making a scene. Besides, most of the countries had left by now – including England. The only ones that were there now was Austria - but he was to busy being harassed by Prussia, of course – Prussia, and Hungary – about to kill Prussia, but not with out getting some 'film'.

"Брат, пожалуйста - нет! Я уверен, что Англия не ваши подсолнухи!"

Russia glared at his sister, then softened his look. He couldn't be mad at her, but this was unforgivable! He petted her nice, soft hair to comfort her.

"Сестра, you can not stop me. Ve came to the meeting together, only he could have gotten them." He was going to find that предатель. He knew he shouldn't have slept on the way to the meeting. England was suspicious; all the Brit could do was shake and stutter.

Russia shook her off and strode to the entrance. Tapping his coat to make sure that he had his trusty pipe and a bottle of his most favored vodka, Russia walked right out of the conference room – and on to America's house. He had heard the loud mouth American begging England to come to his place. Good thing that the meeting was in New York City.

_** MWH**_

After the meeting – America had begged, so the two had gone to go back to the Americans' residence. Now currently seated at the table that resided in the kitchen, the Brit was indulging in a cup of Earl Grey. Alfred kept pestering about his visit to Russia's. It was only political. The boy had decided to give it up and fled to the basement minutes ago to 'test out an idea', leaving the other in blissful peace. _Fuuu~. Nice and tranquil._

It was not long until he was deep in thought, reminiscing about the days he would lounge around drinking tea with his queens when a foul scent reached his nose - causing him to scrunch his face in disgust. Realizing the smell was emanating from downstairs he turned his head to the hallway. _The basement._ "Ugh, what is that git doing down there!"

He got up from his seat and stomped down the hallway and to the cellar where America was currently testing his newfound idea. Arthur made his way down to the birch door that separated the house from the cellar. Pounding his fist on the weak door's frame he shouted in anger, "What the bloody hell are you doing in their America? America! Answer me America, are you daft!"

Arthur reached for the doorknob and flung the door open in fury. A blinding light flooded his vision. He squinted, rubbing the pain from his eyes and looked around the room. What the hell had happened down here? In one corner of the room Alfred was laying in a pile of boxes in a black cloak, rubbing his forehead with his hands. The strawberry blond looked up with an apologetic smile on his face.

"Oh h-hey Iggy."

Arthur shook his head. "What have you been doing?"

The boy got up from the now crushed boxes, skipped over and handed a paper to the other. "I found a spell for hamburgers on the Internet and wanted to try it so I did."

England skimmed the paper, eyes widening in fear as he recognized the Latin words that were scrawled on it. He slapped America upside the head and cried out, "You git! This is a Homo Quaeso Incantamentum!"

America only laughed, "Dude, speak English."

"This is a human conjuring spell! THIS IS TABOO!" shrieked Arthur who was now gripping his hair, obviously losing it. "Did you even think this through? Or use Google Translator!"

Not hearing the latter of the sentence, Alfred's face lit up like one of his Christmas trees. He couldn't believe it. _A person from another world!_ "That's so cool Iggy! What if they have hamburgers on their world too only the hamburgers-"

England wasn't even listening anymore. All he could was pace back and forth on the hard, cold concrete floor of the basement that was now in shambles, no thanks to the spell. _God, my god. What are we going to do with a human? What's going to happen to me if word gets out Alfred conjured up a human using magic? They're going to blame me! No, no one can know of this. But how will I keep his mouth shut? _Arthur turned his head in Alfreds' direction and watched the boy jump in joy, scared even more of all the possibilities that could happen from this. _Wait_, he thought, _where is the human?_

Arthur scanned the room for the person. The place really was going to need serious repairs. Boxes - now destroyed, unused books sliding from their shelves, and a few things that had been broken were strewn about the floor. His eye caught a glimpse of dark brown hair poking from a corner. What he found was a young girl of 14 lying against a box - that had somehow miraculously survived the event - clutching a notepad. He shook her lightly by the shoulders. "Hey, hey. Wake up." He whispered, taking a good look at the girl. _Is she Middle Eastern? _Her hair was brown with a single blond streak through and pulled back. The child's eyebrows were thick but not like Arthur's. And her outfit consisted of an over-sized Greek baseball t-shirt, indigo jeggiings and some magenta Ed-Hardy high-tops.

America wandered over to where England was currently crouching on the floor. "What'cha find Iggy?" His 'oh'ed at the site of the girl who was resting next to England. "What do we do with her?"

"Well, she's out cold. Lets put her in a room and wait until we find out what to do with her."

And with that Alfred scooped her up while Arthur took her sketchpad and phone, and the two headed upstairs to place the girl in a guestroom.

_**-LTR-**_

"Ughhh...What...the hell..."

Julie's head was pounding slightly and her knees felt sore. She sat up in the bed and stretched her limbs. _Wait, when did I go to bed?_ Pushing the patriotic colored sheets back, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. _I'm still dressed but where did my shoes go? And this isn't my room. _No, this was far different than her room; it was decorated very American-ish, if that was even a word. The walls were oak along with the rest of the hardwood in the room. There were more American flags than one could count and the bathroom on the right was draped in red, white and blue. _All it needs now is America from Hetalia_, she mused and gave a small giggle with a otaku smile.

Julie poked her head out from the room. On her right there was a lengthy stretch of a hallway that twisted into a corner and then disappeared. On the left the hallway only had a few doors before getting cut off. The walls were sort of yellowed and every now and then there would be an old embroidered rug in either red, brown, or gold. Around most corners there would be a small mahogany end table waiting. Julie peeked in all the rooms. There was a billiards room, a few bathrooms - at least three, including the one in the room she had woken in - a gaming room that had every PS3 game known to man, and a few other rooms, most of them being bedrooms. _Who needs this many bedrooms? _The curtains in one of the other bedrooms were drawn back and the sun had shone through, tempting her to look outside. _From the looks of it, I'm probably on the second floor._

Soon enough she found the staircase - and hated it. The thing would creak with every step and all she could think was, 'This stupid piece of wood is going to give me away! I don't even know whose house I'm in!' The first floor looked much like the previous one, yet there were a few changes. For one, the kitchen was completely done in stainless steel but it looked as if unused. As she kept heading further down the hallway, Julie started to hear faint voices.

"...Comrade."

"Get...my...you commie bastard!"

The closer she got to the yelling, the more violent it seemed. Stopping right in front of a pair of doors, which were slightly opened, she peered into the room. There - believe it or not, was America protecting England from a menacing Russia who was now dragging his pipe along the birch floor.

"England doesn't have your stupid flowers, you freak!"

England looked scared and America had anger and hate painted across his face. She couldn't see Russia's face but that didn't mean she couldn't picture it. Julie shivered at the thought.

Russia spoke once more bringing her attention back to the conversation. "This is not your business, Comrade."

This only made America's skin boil even more.

"Yes it is, Comrade" America spat at Russia. "You're in my house, commie."

She leaned in to get a better view - it wasn't often that you got to see a all-out fight with Hetalia characters. Now that she looked closely, it seemed as thought Russia was about to draw his pipe – a sign for attack. _Ohh – taking Russia's flowers, they're going to get it now._

It seemed that she had leaned in too far, for now she was crashing face-first into the grand living room – attracting the others' attention. America and England's eyes widened at the site of the girl. Russia only raised an eyebrow. Then he gave a creepy-ass smile.

Julie looked up. "Uhh...h-hi. Russia. America, England." She gave a meek smile and waved. _Way to be brave._

Twiddling her fingers, she looked away. Thousands of thoughts were passing through her head by now. But only one thought passed through the countries' minds – _How does she know who we are?_

Russia walked up to the girl and grabbed her by the collar. "Маленькая девочка, скажи как ты знаешь кто я, если вы хотите сохранить вашу шею."

Julie grabbed her collar back in response, trying to force it back from her neck in order to breath. She flailed her legs about, but it didn't help. The Russian was too tall. "Lâchez-moi! Je ne peux pas parler en russe, je ne sais pas ce que vous dites!" Her face started to turn red.

England was shocked and slightly angry when he heard the girl speak the stupid frogs' language. _Bloody hell, she's one of the frog's people. But I thought she was Middle Eastern, she certainly looks like it. Maybe a southern French._

Russia's anger only grew and the two other countries started to cower a bit more. Julie on the other hand did not. "You are related to the perverted European nation, da?" The man said, Russian accent clearly audible.

It took Julie a few minutes to register the comment.

"What, you mean France? Yes, my mother is French. And yes, I must admit France is _**very **_perverted, but most French are nice - if not cold to Americans. That, I know first-hand. Plus, we don't get drunk - it's not respectable."

Russia looked at the girl with a questioning look on his face. The two other just gawked. Standing up for France was something that no one ever did. He let her go apprehensively and she dropped to the ground. Julie got up and rubbed her sore backside. She looked up, noticing the Slavic countries' height for once and man was he tall. "Russia what are you here for anyway? You running away from Belarus?"

Russia shivered at his younger sister's name. God, no. He had told her to stay home. And much to his luck, General Winter was being nice to him for once and snowed her in. "Nyet. Natalya did not follow me and I think that this is not part of your business, Маленькая девочка." Why talking to her as thought she was a comrade, using his sisters' human name?

"Oh yes it is. It became my business when you made the foolish move of grabbing and threatening me, Ivan Branginski. Don't try to wean yourself out of this." Julie gave him a stare as best as she could. It was hard to be mean or hold a grudge; those things were just not part of her nature.

America gave a whoot. "Yah! Show that commie!" He placed his hand on her shoulder, looking like he was trying to back her up like a home-dog. She turned around and gave him the same stare - but he didn't notice and gave the same stupid grin.

"America, your to blame just as much. You do have a point; this isn't Russia's home. But you should listen to what he has to say. And I'm not on anyone's side. There are two sides to the story; so two stories should be listened to. One would think that you would abide to this rule, seeing how you're the first one to come up with the judicial system."

Alfred just started at her letting all this sink into his head. "Yah, but-" he started only to be cut off. "No buts. Lets just work this out. Again, Russia what did you come here for?"

Russia started at the brunette. "Someone has taken my sunflowers, Маленькая девочка."

Julie shook her head and gave him a 'what' stare. "Who would be fool enough to do that?"

Then it hit her. Latvia. That boy just didn't know when to stop. _One day Estonia going to have an aneurysm because of him._ "Did you ask Latvia?"

Russia started to kolkholz. _Latvia, da. _"England, I apologize. I vill go visit Latvia." Russia started to briskly walk to the wide double-doors of the foyer and Julie had to run just to keep up with him. She grabbed his beige coat causing him to stop and turn his head. She faced at him with a look of determination. "Don't hurt him or I'll tell Natalya that you have finally agreed to her hand in marriage." she warned. "I'll ask Lithuania or Estonia."

He stared at her and gulped before turning around and taking his leave. Julie watched him go out the wide doors. She walked back over to America and England and looked at them. "So. Which one of you brought me here? England? ...England?"

During this whole fiasco, England could only stare at this human. She was so unlike all the other humans he had met during his 'extended' life-time. She was strong, but soft at the same time. Like rubber. _How does she know all this? _Unfortunately, he had been thinking out loud and the girl chuckled. "I'll tell you why, but first - where are my shoes, phone and sketch pad?" She didn't waste anytime getting to the point.

America butted in and point to a small glass coffee table. "There."

On it, her things were stacked neatly - save for the shoes, which she was pretty sure were near the entrance, wherever that was. She skipped over to the center of the foyer and sat down on the leather love seat. Now that she looked at it, the room was styled much different than what she had expected. The couch was brown along with the rich colored room. Oak floors complemented the golden curtains and there was a fireplace sitting at the helm of the area - adorned with the necessary tools to keep a fire in check but obviously never used. And the door at the back-left led into a second, smaller kitchen, probably used for snack preparing - like popcorn. No surprise, there _**was **_a large flat-screen starting at the fireplace from across the room. And facing the love seat was a larger couch, made for more than six guests. England and America took a seat on the larger-than-life couch. England just looked at her in disbelief. "I've never seen anyone make Russia listen to them like that."

Julie just gave a slight shrug. "Oh. Okay, if you say so. Thanks."

"So how do you know so much about us?" England face-palmed. _Your so predictable, Alfred._

"Oh. Well~ you guys are anime characters." She replied bluntly. England choked, America just stared. "What the..." Alfred started. England cut in, expressing the thoughts for the two.

"We're...**anime **characters?"

"Yup," she giggled. England didn't see how this was funny. "-you two along with all the other countries, and mirconations. I think Sealand-kun is adorable."

_Sealand? That wanker? Cute! Wait a bloody minute; I'm going off track here. _" So...we're... part of an...**anime**."

Julie tsk-ed. "Well, don't say it like that. You guys are very popular. Most of the world loves you." She kicked up her legs and folded them into a pretzel. "So anyway, how did I get here?"

Arthur came back from his thoughts and pointed at America. "This bloody wanker decided to try his hand at magic."

Alfred hadn't been listening, too engrossed in his burger. Where the hell had it come from? His head snapped up and Julie almost gagged at his manners. They weren't kidding. America had no manners what-so-ever. It was just horrifying. "Waf arum youf'z t'alkinfing bouft?"

"_America _did magic?" Julie questioned.

"Yes. This stupid git will kill himself one day." England scoffed.

She nodded. "No arguing there. " England smiled. She was a strange girl, but nice all the same. "So, who do I stay with?"

England eyed her warily. "Well, since this is Americas' fault, you'll stay with him." America nodded and swallowed the last of his meal.

"Yup. We'll stay up late and play Call of Duty 2 with Tony." This made the girl giggle.

"Okai!"

Julie huffed as a long silence prevailed. "So what do we do now?"

England thought. If she was going to being staying quite sometime, she would need everything and anything. "Well, until I find a spell to send you back - since you'll be staying here and you'll need some stuff I assume."

Julies' eyes glistened with excitement. She jump up from the couch and danced over to the grand entrance from earlier. "Shopping spree!" she squealed.

America passed on the chance to go to Game Stop to pick up some games for tonight. England - on the other hand - followed the young child, guiding her to the main door of the house. _'This is going to be interesting.' _He thought while slipping on his coat.

_** SWM**_

Russia had just left the North Americans' house and now on his way home in a plane. (How the hell did he get to the airport so fast?) He couldn't help think about the young girl he had just met. She was something, you know? The child had just grabbed his coat out of no where and threatened him using his sister. And the way she responded to his actions was surprising. Most people would have fainted already. But no, not her.

Russia propped his hand up on the armrest in order to support his head. The window was dull to stare at and what was outside of it was even duller. _It always snows in my country. _Maybe he could use the girl as an excuse to go back to that stupid capitalist-pig's house. He did have to admit, the country was terrible but not the weather.

And then it struck him;

_'Vait, vy am I thinking of the девочка?"_

* * *

**Translations;**

[Брат, пожалуйста - нет! Я уверен, что Англия не ваши подсолнухи!] Brother, please - no! I believe that England is not your sunflowers!

[Сестра,] Sister,

[Маленькая девочка, скажи как ты знаешь кто я, если вы хотите сохранить вашу шею.] Little girl, tell me how you know who I am, if you want to keep your neck.

[Lâchez-moi! Je ne peux pas parler en russe, je ne sais pas ce que vous dites!] Let me go! I can't speak Russian, I do not know what you say!

[...Маленькая девочка.] ...little girl.

[...девочка.] ...girl.

**No comment for my bad luck.**


	3. Introductions

**A/N; **I changed my name to **'TheSelfCriticalAuthor' **which in retrospect isn't that much of a lie. Plus - Sorry, I'm evil. So I gave you a cliffhanger. Muahahahahaha! :D But I'll try to make the next chapter longer. Much, MUCH longerrrrrrrrr.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. - Goes in a corner and cries. - I don't own NY&C, Victoria's Secret, or Starbucks either. Poop.

* * *

Julie skipped along the pavement, parallel to the street that was crowded with taxi's; England was walking close by – following the girl. Arthur had suggested they take a cab, but she insisted that they should walk saying that 'exercise is important'. _Not at my age_, he thought.

Her brown ponytail whipped side to side with each skip. He didn't know what to give the little one so he just let her dig into the coat closet and pull out whatever looked appealing. The child slipped on a trench coat exclaiming that she loved the style of the worn-out article of clothing. Julie noticed that he was lagging behind and turned around in order to stay close. England saw that the girl had started to come back and struck up a conversation.

"What is it? Is something bothering you?"

She got grabby with his hand causing him to jump in alarm. No one had ever been this 'intimate' with him in such a short amount of time of their meeting. The brunette looked up at him. Although by just a bit, he was taller than her –five inches to be exact. "You ok?"

"No, nothings wrong. But – may I ask, why are we holding hands?" England inquired.

Julie looked down at the clasped fingers and gave a small smile to the Brit. "'Cause Manhattan is quite big, and getting lost here is not something you want to do alone, ne?"

England was a bit surprised by her comment. Most people he's met would have said that they did not want to get lost in Manhattan, much less with him. He remembered the times he had gotten lost in this popular city. It was stressful and unpleasant. All the buses and train he had to memorize just to get back to Long Island where the JFK airport was. And yet, this girl wanted to get lost? With him?

"Why in dear God's will, would you want to be lost?"

She giggled –quite cutely, he must add. _Wait - cute? _"It's fun to get lost, 'kinda like an adventure, ne?"

Arthur smiled. It was nice to have an adventure once in awhile –it reminded him of when Alfred was little. "I think I'm a bit old to have an adventure, don't you agree miss?"

Now that he thought of it, he didn't know a thing about this girl –not even her name. No one did. His reply made the girl laugh even more. "No one's too old for anything."

He cut in, "I'm sorry, but I do believe we've yet to introduce each other."

This made Julie stop laughing and gasp. A pained expression swooped across her face making England wish he had not said the last sentence. She raised her free hand to her face, covering her mouth. "Oh my god," the child cried, "I'm so rude. Here - your out taking me shopping, wasting your precious time that you could be using for work and I'm skipping like a idiot, not even thinking of telling you my name. I'm Julie Louise. Fourteen years old and living in Long Island."

England was shocked by how self critical this girl was. Polite, but self-critical. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, but I'm quite sure you know my name already, Julie." Her name sounded so natural, like they had known each other for a long time already.

"Yup, but it's still quite polite to introduce yourself regardless of the other persons' knowledge of you." He nodded his head in agreement. These words rang true. "So, where would you like to go?"

Julie gave the British man a serious look. "Wait...you're paying for everything? How much are we getting?"

"Whatever catches your eye."

Shaking her head at the idea, she declared, "No way. If you do this for me, I have to do something for you." England questioned what he had just heard.

"What?"

"I know! I'll cook you a nice big dinner! How'd that sound?"

"Wait, what?"

It took awhile for England to register all of this. Dinner did sound nice, seeing that he couldn't cook for himself. "Uh, ok. Sure, that sounds lovely." Julie gave a little 'peace sign'. "Yay! Pinky promise." The two shook pinkies and continued to walk n' talk.

"You don't cook only hamburgers, do you?" Arthur asked apprehensively.

"God, no." she replied. "I hate hamburgers." England thanked god mentally. "So where are we going?"

Her smile widened at his statement. "To a nice store, it's called New York and Company."

They made their way to a big department store with the words 'NY&C' plastered across the top in big, red illuminated letters. Inside it was quaint, with most of the walls white. Immediately running over to the pants section, the child pulled out a few garments in a various sizes. England followed the girl and noticed the bland style of clothes she had chosen. Didn't most girls like pink, or flashy jewelry? "Don't you want more glamorous things?"

"No," she replied, "I need something I can work and run in with solid colors and the accessories do the work."

_Oh, ok. _Hey, who was he to argue? Julie continued to pick out plain work outfits. Dress shirts with frilly cuffs, long slacks, plus a few other things here and there. To be quite technical, the youth had grabbed two yoga pants - both black, two jeans - one in a dark indigo, one in black, and five dress shirts in peach, white, white again, black, and orange. There were some light things mixed through out the purchase like three tank tops - all cotton. And to top it off one long lime scarf, and three huge baggy sweaters, black, grey and white. Arthur noticed that most of the clothes were black. _So she likes black. _The total came out to be four hundred dollars.

"Are you sure all this is alright?" she questioned as they walked out of the store -bags in their hands.

Arthur smiled at the young girl, she was sweet alright. "It's quite alright, Julie. It's winter and I can't have Alfred taking care of a sick child, because hamburgers are not a cure."

She gave a small smile in return. Then - out of nowhere, she latched on to him, almost squeezing the poor man to death with her bear hug. As he blushed furiously - for no one had ever hugged him like besides the American and the frog, she exclaimed; "Thank you! I appreciate all you've done for me!"

England tried to pry her off, but that didn't require much strength - the girl gave up without a fight. He coughed, "Yes, well. You're quite welcome. Do we need to go anywhere else?"

Eyes widened. "Umm, yes, but I don't think you'll want to come with me." Her face was starting to turn red like it had earlier this afternoon. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the smaller one's reaction. _Why is she blushing like that? "_What is it? You can tell me."

Julie started to fidget and twiddle her fingers. "Ah, it's -" she began but the end came out muffled. The Brit strained to hear the rest of the sentence- it was in vain. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

After the forbidden place was whispered into his ear, Arthur wished he hadn't asked. His face tinged with a rosy color - not due to the crisp January air. "I see. Well, I shall be in that Starbucks." he pointed out the small American shop, "Meet me there, ok poppet?"

He heard a slight snicker from her. 'Ok, poppet!' she replied cheerfully before walking off to the woman's store. Blushing, he also went his respective direction and made his way to the coffee kiosk. After standing in line and ordering a tea, he took a seat in one of the booths that stood idle in the corner. All he could do now was wait for her, it's not like he could into the...lingerie store. _I wonder what she favors. Maybe lace or silk. _His face flushed yet again. _Wait! I just met the child and I'm thinking squalid thoughts of her! _England shook his head vigorously and took another sip of his drink to calm the buzzing noise that now dominated his temples.

_**-MWH-**_

The glass doors of the Victoria's Secret gave her a small glimpse of a store stocked with cotton panties and sexiness. As she walked in, the PINK came into sight and Julie waltzed over to the white drawers that were bursting with polka-dotted fabrics. Fifteen sets of undergarments later, she found herself in the checkout line ogling at the lip-glosses. Some came to interest and along with the 'lovely things'; the purchase included two Beauty-Rush products - Twisted Citrus and Slice of Heaven. She completed the process by handing the cashier a credit card Arthur had given to her back when they left America's house.

Soon enough Julie left in search of the Starbucks she'd seen earlier. And - waiting for her in the coffee shop across the street, seated at the corner table - was the British nation. The bell stationed just above the door gave a little ring making some of the young customers lookup from their lattes, but they immediately turned their attention back to the beverages when they saw it was just another person. She took a place across from him, crowding the floor below with shopping bags. "Hi, I'm back."

Arthur shot his head up and came back from spacing out, realizing the teenager had come back from the -store-. She waved a small, calloused hand in front of his face. "England, are you feeling alright?"

He coughed and straightened his posture. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just deep in thought. Have you bought that you need?"

"Yes, and thank you. I shall make you a truly wonderful meal."

England mentally 'oh-ed'. He had forgotten about the deal they had made not three hours ago. But that didn't make him any less excited. Crushing the now empty cup, he got up to toss it out. Arthur came back and outstretched a hand to the girl. "Come on, we have much more to do at Alfred's house before you're set."

Julie took his hand and pulled herself from the green, tattered leather of the booth. Arthur saw the amount of bags Julie was attempting to carry and offered to hold some. She happily complied. The two walked out of the kiosk - deep in conversion of what they'd do when at the American's house, completely unaware of what - or who, had seen them from across the cafe.

* * *

**Translations; **Boo-yah! No translations this chapter! - Claps hands and does a victory dance to Spanish music. -

Review please. ¡OLÉ!

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	4. Trouble

**A/N; **-Bows- Sumimasen! I'm such a lazy otaku. But the chapter's here now. Sorry it's short, I had a change of plans. Not going to have a long chapter until a -**certain**- event in the future. And I a review fromFeatherLeaf. Thank you! It was a real eye-opener! I will take your advice. Tough-love is always accepted in any form, long or short review. Enjoy~

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia, (why, God, WHY!) Call of Duty 2 or Ikea.

* * *

The bell that hung just above the entrance gave a little ring, disturbing him from his American latte. It tasted like England's cooking, but he couldn't care less. Damn Irish-American pub was closed today - today of all days. And he could use a good bier.

Earlier in the afternoon he had gotten bored half way through the World Conference - like usual. So he decided to go talk with Ita-chan only to have 'POTATO BASTARD' screamed in his face. Then his bruder told him to 'stop making trouble'. At the end of the meeting, Hungary chased him with her frying pan for teasing the Austrian pansy and hit him thus resulting in the bruise on his forehead. Ok, that was normal. But, still.

When he found out his regular bar was closed, he decided to tag along with Antonio and Francis to this crappy place. So here he was, sucking down a cappuccino due to frustration. He was so lost in his anger, that he didn't even notice his friend was continuously calling his name.

"Prusia."

"Prusia..."

"Gilbert!"

The third time was the trick. Prussia jumped back to the present, no less upset than he had been before. "Was!" He spun his head to his left to see that France and Spain were in his face, starting at him. He backed up a little, discomforted by the lack of distance between them.

France gave him a mixed look of worry and annoyance - but mostly worry. "Mon ami, what eez wrong? You look distressed." the french-man said, accent thick as butter.

"Nothing. Nothing is vhong vith me. Just pissed at meinen dummkopf of a kleinen bruder."

The two other gave each other the eye, clearly unconvinced. The Spaniard shook the feeling of unease off and preceded to tell Gilbert the original reason he had cut his thoughts short. "Mis amigos, mira. Over there in the corner." Antonio gave a slight gesture with his head to the right hand corner of the store. Gilbert and Francis followed the direction the other gave and stopped at the slight of a man with unruly, blond hair.

They just kept staring as slightly evil grins cracked upon their lips. _England_, they thought. He was just idly sitting at a table sipping his drink while looking of into space. Truly it was pure luck that they stumbled upon the Brit. "Ouuu~ Bon. I'm going over to L'angleterre." France said while clapping his hands together. He was about to get up when the door's bell gave another little 'ding'. The three turned to see a young girl with a blond streak in her hair walk through the entrance. As she ambled in the direction of England, their suspicion only grew – especially France's.

_Who is that fille and why is she walking up to mon Angleterre?_

The girl took a seat across from England. When she realized he was up in the clouds, she waved one of her petite hands closed to face immediately catching his attention. They talked for a brief moment before England got up to throw out his now empty cup. Then he came back and outstretched a hand, pulling the child up from the booth. The two each took some of the shopping bags that the girl had placed on the floor not two minutes ago and walked out of the popular coffee shop.

Francis's began to boil like Italy's pasta, and the rest noticed. "Francia," Antonio started "Why don't we follow them?" Gilbert jumped up in enthusiasm for he had nothing else to do and declared; "Kesesese! JA! Let's go have some fun!"

France growled lightly then sighed but the anger was till there. "Oui. Allons-y." All three got up, tossed their plastic cups and ran out of the store. They found England not far down the street hand in hand with the child and proceeded to secretively follow them from a safe distance.

**_ MWH_**

The cold chilled his bones in a numbing way. He open the grand door to his house and realized that inside was no warmer. As he walked through the main entryway, he saw that a set of shoes were already there. Treading cautiously, Russia gripped his pipe from within the beige coat. His sisters apparently heard him for Ukraine's face popped out from the opening of the kitchen. She had a forced smile on along with a apron.

"Привет, брат."

Russia lowered his guard when he saw that it was only her. "Сестра, what are you doing here?"

Her face twisted into a look of hurt – but only for a second. "брат, did England have your sunflowers?" He walked past her to see that a pot was cooking on the stove. The familiar scent gave away the mystery and he recognized that it was borsch. He turned around to face her.

"нет. But there vas a child. A девушка to be exact."

The other got a small shock from what her brother had just said. "A child? Maybe a new country?" Russia shook his head. "нет, impossible. There are no new colonies. Besides, the child looks far too old to be an unknown colony. The девушка is a young teenager."

Ukraine marveled at the possibility. But the look on her brother's face created a new train of thought within her mind. "брат, vhat happened at America's house?"

Russia momentarily stopped before turning back around and heading to the foyer without saying a word. This was a conversation that he did not want to have - and she knew it. America was a foul subject for the North American had quite the notoriety in the East European country's book. Yet - if she didn't talk to him, no one would. It wasn't going to be easy, Russia wasn't open to anyone - especially his sisters. "брат, please - tell me vhat happened at America's house." Ukraine pleaded.

Something had obviously happened and it was starting to become unnerving. Russia didn't respond but instead sat down on the leather - colored couch. His sister unwillingly gave up to go attend to the borsch that was now bubbling on the aged stove. He looked out the large window that was being comforted by velvet curtains on the right. Like always, it was snowing. All that he could think of was the girl. Why did she know his name and were had she come from? Because it was certain almost no one knew of their existence other than their bosses. He remembered the way she was so fluent in French and scowled. _She is one of the perverted man's people. _He continued to think until his sunflowers came to mind.

Russia rose from the seat and made his way from the foyer through the kitchen and to the front. Ukraine ran after him and asked where he was going. The Russian replied that he was going to vist the Baltics and would be back in time for dinner. She wished him safety and saw him stride out the door into the cold tundra.

_** LTR**_

Alfred stuffed his hands in the pockets of his worn-out light wash demins. A considerably small plastic bag hung off of his right hand while his left hand was free of weight. He had gone to GameStop and rented a movie or two that he thought the girl might like and three video games including Call of Duty 2. _Nothing like kicking commie butt_, he thought.

As he walked up the concrete front steps of the large house he called home, he fumbled with the plastic bag and pulled out a pair of small keys. They fit into the lock and gave a small 'click'. Alfred tossed off his kicks to the side and proceeded down the hall to the large den where they had first talked to the girl. _So I'm in an anime, huh. Should probably ask Kiku about it, he'll know. _He sprawled across the sofa in a lazy manner. Dropping the goods, Alfred made himself comfortable.

At that moment the doorbell rang - the national anthem no less. He hollered 'Let yourself in!' and heard the front door open along with some shuffling of shoes, bags, and feet. In seconds the girl came dancing into the room in a celebratory fashion, Arthur not far behind her. She smiled, dropped the bags near an armchair and took a seat, letting out a pleased sigh. "Hey Alfred." she sung in a cheerful voice.

"Hey, uhh...person." He didn't know her name, even thought she knew his. _She knows my name?_

"Oh, yah. I forgot to tell you my name. Julie, Julie Louise." Julie gave a bright grin. "We did alot of walking and shopping. It was fun. Good work out too."

Arthur pushed over America's legs and replaced them with his arse. He gave a slightly tired huff and began to unbutton his coat. Julie noticed his state and spoke up. "Thanks for taking me shopping. I greatly appreciate it."

England smiled. "It was truly a pleasure to talk to you miss."

"Come on. Please - call me Julie. I know we've only just met personally, but I don't like such formalities if you know my name."

Arthur sighed. "Ok, - Julie. Well, now that we have that done - time to figure out which room you'll be staying in. Come on, you may pick which ever pleases you."

Julie jumped up from the armchair, and giggled while clapping her hands and doing a small twirl. She ended the little dance witn an 'Ole'. England and America just stared at her in confusion. The girl was certainly a strange one. Arthur showed her the way to the stairs and America took to the kitchen to get some snacks. He came back into the foyer with a box of Pocky, sat back down and continued to relaxed empty-mindedly before bringing the 67" T.V. to life.

_** MWH**_

The old stairs creaked but not in an eerie way. More like a 'there's been alot of history here' kinda of way. The two headed up to the second floor where all the guestrooms resided. England stopped and turned to the child. "Ok, there are seven guestrooms. They're mostly for when countries come over, but the one you pick will be your room for the time being."

Julie nodded in understanding and made her way down the wide hallway. She peered into most of the rooms before stopping and wandering into the fifth room. Arthur followed her down the corridor and entered the room. It was very modern and most - if not all, of the furniture was from Ikea.

The bed was oak, centered in the middle of the room and not very high, covered with a fluffy comforter. The comforter itself had a large plaid design in reds, oranges and magentas. The floor was a cream colored birch along with the double-doored closet that was seated in the right side of the room. There was a small, white lacquer coffee table even lower than the bed in the lower-right hand corner. Under it was a blue, fuzzy rug. Along with the border-less, crayon-red lacquer bookcase that stood as tall as Russia, only other red thing in the room was the picture of doodles on the left wall that seemed to be guarding the bathroom. The curtains that cradled the large bay window above the bed were a see-thought blue satin color. And there was a little lamp screwed into the wall beside the bed with an old-fashioned chain hanging from it. Julie flipped on the paper lantern lamp that sat on top of the bookcase and the unusual orange lamp that sat on top of the coffee table. England marveled at the room. He gave a little cough and spoke.

"Ah, yes. This is one of Alfred's more modern guestrooms. I think this is one of the rooms Sweden stays in."

Arthur shivered as a picture of Sweden's face appeared in his conscience. It looked as thought that man was always angry with everyone. He wondered why Sealand and Finland could even bear staying with the Swede. "Is this the room prefer?"

Julie took a hold of the curtains and pushed them apart brutally, letting in the sunlight. Then she spun around, making her dark chocolate hair whip around with her and said with a wide grin; "I _love _the way the blue clashes with the red. It's so _bold_. Kudos to Sweden. He has good taste. Plus I think his military outfit is stunning."

_She likes _Sweden_? _"Ah - ok. Well then, let's head downstairs to go get the shopping bags and put way your new things."

England began to walk when the child glomped him. He froze due to shock as she started to squeal.

"Oh merçi, merçi, merçi. Merci Angelterre! Vous êtes les meilleurs!"

She gave him a huge bear hug and almost started to hurt him. "Ju-Ju-Julie!" Arthur choked out. "You're cru-crushing me."

Julie gasped and released him from her murderous hold. She gave a quick bow and said sorry. When England asked her why she had bowed, she simply replied; 'Cause I like Japanese culture.' He raised a brow and watched the peculiar girl skip out of the room. Arthur followed her downstairs - his mind filled of questions and worries.

* * *

**Translations;**

[Bruder] Brother

[Prusia] French for Prussia

[Was] What

[Mon ami] My friend

[Meinen dummkopf of a kleinen bruder.] My stupid-head of a younger brother.

[Mis amigos, mira.] My friends, look.

[L'angleterre] England

[Fille] Girl

[Mon Angleterre] My England

[Francia] Spanish for France

[Ja] yes

[Oui. Allons-y.] Yes. Let's go.

[Привет, брат.] Hello, brother.

[Сестра] Sister

[Borsch] A Russian soup made usually of red beats, but can be made with other vegetables.

[нет] No

[девушка] Girl

[Oh merçi, merçi, merçi. Merci Angelterre! Vous êtes les meilleurs!] Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you England! Your the best!

**Review onegai. Reviews help me write.**


	5. The Plan

**A/N;** Ok. This one's short but the next one is long, pinky promise. Why? Cause there will be a twist in the story's plot that even I didn't see coming. And I'm preety sure that you'll love it. Or at least '_omigawd_' at it. Plus soon enough I'll introduce her to all the countries and then the real party will begin. Enjoy mis amigos!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia cauz if I did, some very~ crazy crap would happen. I don't own NY&Co. But I love their line of clothing.

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The three had hopped the fence and taken out any cameras that they couldn't sneak around. Now the Trio was situated behind a hedge, trying to come up with a plan.

"So what now?" Spain whispered as he crouched next to France's right side. On the other hand Prussia was sitting Indian style - arms crossed, legs folded. France had one hand support his lightly bearded chin as he tried to think.

Francis replied. "Bon, 'ere is zee plan. I will go find l'Angelterre, and I want you to go find zee girl. When we leave, we will take 'er with us and interrogate 'er. I want to find out who she is and 'ow she knows mon Angelterre."

Antonio was slightly shaken by the seriousness in his friend's voice. "Wait, were going to kidnap her? You can't be serious."

France looked at Spain and gave him a stare that seemed like he was trying to create a hole in his friend's head. "Mon ami, I am very serious about zis." the french nation commented.

Spain couldn't believe this. He knew they wanted to help Francis, but kidnapping people is a bit drastic. Gilbert waved his hand and cut in; "How do vhe get inside thought?"

France paused and gave Prussia's question a minute. He wanted his Angelterre back and no child was going to get in the way of their 'amour'. "Oh! I remember a back door from the last time v'e vere here for a G8 conference." Prussia said, interrupting Francis's train of thought. "I don't think it's guarded. It's not far from here."

France quietly clapped his hands together. "Ok, let's do zis." He got up and all three proceeded with the plan. They hid behind what ever they could and successfully snuck through the rest of America's backyard. Soon enough - just like Prussia had said, they reached a back door. It was composed of two doors actually. One tattered, old door and one screen door in front of it - probably used to keep out bugs in the summer time. Francis gingerly crept up the whitewash back porch and stopped in front of the double-door. Reaching for the knob, he gave it a twist and a pull. The door screeched causing Spain and Prussia to grip their ears in pain. France spun around to see if his friends were okay and saw them giving him a look of disapproval. Gilbert stuck out his hand and shooed.

"Hurry up!" Prussia hissed.

France retook the doorknob and swung the door open. This time it didn't make a sound and the three crept in.

_** MWH**_

Julie bent down to pick up another hanger. England had helped her carry the shopping bags up and left to her business, but it took some reassuring.

**¡Flashback!**

_The two climbed the creaky, old stairs with bags cluttering their arms. When they finally reached Julie's new room, she and England dropped the bags and let out sighs of relief. He looked to her and asked; "Would you like me to help, miss- ah, Julie?"_

_She smiled and dropped onto the bed. "You remembered."_

_Arthur coughed as his checks flushed. "Ah, yes. Well."_

_"And, nah. It's all good." she continued. "This will only take me half an hour."_

_England nodded his head. "Well, when you're done, come down. Dinner's in three hours." he said before leaving to rejoin Alfred downstairs._

¡Present!

She turned to see what time the green, LED alarm clock on her new coffee table said.

'3:47'

It already had been about an hour since they got back and she was still hanging up her new clothes. After Julie folded the lime green scarf, she placed it on top of the second rack in closet and the placed the now empty NY&Co. bags near the coffee table. She went on to the four boxes and started pulling out new shoes. One set of sneakers that had three buckles on them and long shoe laces, one set of black boots that came up to her ankles and had a faux, flat fur trim, one set of black combat boots that came up to her knees - a pair of shoes she had _always _wanted, and a pair of Italian high-heels. Of course, again - in black. Julie tossed the boxes in the NY&Co. bags and sat down on the bed exhausted. That's when she realized there was just one more little bag.

_Oh, yah. The bag from that boutique._

On their way back home, England and her had passed a cute little shop. In the window she saw an old cotton blouse with dark marble-colored buttons running from halfway down the article of clothing. They went in and Julie had tried it on. The sleeves were a little too long and so was the rest of the blouse. The neck opening 'showed off to much skin' as England had put it with a blush, but she still loved it anyway. With it they bought a little glass heart that had two 'U' shaped gold lines in it and a double golden string for a chain.

She pulled out the blouse and the necklace. The bag went on a door knob while the necklace went on her neck and the blouse on the bed. Julie started to feel dirty for not changing clothes after a long day so she began to strip out of her clothes. First the shirt - to reveal a gray non-underwire bra, then the jeggings to reveal a lace-trimmed navy blue and grey pair of boyshort panties. She then took off her socks and stretched.

_Reach for the sky. Reach for your toes. Twist, twist._

**Crack! **Julie sighed in pleasure as her back gave that little sound. She walked over to the closet and began picking out an outfit. The new blouse, a tank top in black, indigo jeans and the ankle boots. Buttoning the jeans came after the tank top. Using some long socks, she tucked the ends of the jeans into her boots but left it in a 'poofy' style and put on the blouse. Julie went into the bathroom to check her look and brush her hair then pull it back into a loose ponytail.

Too bad she didn't hear the door crack open.

* * *

**Translations;**

[Angleterre] England

Only one? Oh well**.**

**Review! **-Sits down at the computer and starts on sixth chapter.-


	6. Surprises

**A/N; **Ok, I'm a bad, bad otaku. I've been procrastinating all of my President's Day vacation. Well, not really. I had ballroom dance lessons for the first time and my feet are killing me. Hair cut, re-did my hightlight. (Yes, i only have one big, blond highlight on the right-side of my hair. Had it since foruth grade.) and my nails. Don't usually do that kind of stuff. Also, I've been trying to better my characters with accents, catch-phrases, actions, the whole nine-miles package, etc. Sooo... I did a few updates to some or the chapters. Althought! Nothing you really need to go back to re-read. Just inserted accents. Sorry for the chapter. I'm trying, but it's jsut sooo hard to right THAT much in one go. But! I'm trying. So, yah. Also please give me any tips or suggestions to better the story and/or the characters. I'll try to get the chapters out faster. I should shut up now. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I hate this part cause it always remindes me that I don't own Hetalia. Not even stuff besides the first volume of the comics. Want a England and Prussia plushie. And Season 1 and 2 DVD...

* * *

Sneaking in wasn't so hard but finding the girl was. The two had already searched the first floor and almost been caught by America who was trying to force-feed England a hamburger. France had parted ways with them and went into the kitchen. They had continued down the long hallway and found stairs at the end of it. Prussia and Spain tried to lay low, but it was hard with the creaky, old steps. When they reached the second floor, the duo sighed in frustration not because there was another long hallway – because that this hallway had even more rooms. Giving a ready nod to each other, they began opening doors. Not the billiards room, not the gaming room. Prussia and Spain keep opening doors until they heard a person sighing from one of the rooms that were situated at the end of hallway. Gilbert gave Antonio a look, Antonio gave Gilbert a look. They slowly crept up to a white door.

"Kesese! The awvsome-me vhill open it." Prussia announced quietly.

He reached for the door knob and pushed it open gingerly. Inside there was the girl with the blond streak putting an aged blouse. She took the pile of clothes that were on the bed and walked off into another room on the left. Prussia went in first and then Spain. The room was shockingly neat and modern. The style was so different from the rest of the house. They followed the girl and saw what she had walked into was the bathroom. Prussia hid next to the door frame of the bathroom and Spain hid behind the the right side of the bed. The girl walked back out and yawned.

"Huff, that's finally finished. I should probably go downstairs but I want to finish that sketch."

She walked over to the coffee table and took the sketch pad she had placed there earlier. What she didn't notice was Prussia walking over quietly. Suddenly he clasped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her hands. A muffled scream came from the young girl and she began to kick. Spain popped out from behind the bed and she stopped. Her eyes widened in shock. She tried to turn her head to get a look at her captor but Gilbert wouldn't allow it and kept her head in place.

They had nothing to tie her up with so they started to search the room. Spain flung open the closet door and began rummaging. He found a lime green scarf folded neatly on a rack and took it. He needed another thing to tie her hands with but the search was an fruitless effort. So he took off his shirt and revealed tanned, muscular, Spanish man. Gilbert felt his hand become warm and looked at the girl. She was just staring at Antonio and her face was red as one of Romano's tomatoes. He chuckled; _Kesesesese. She's obviously a virgin._

Prussia took his friend's shirt and tied the child's hands together while Spain covered her mouth with the scarf. She began to yell but the scarf muffled her words very nicely. It was like she wasn't even talking - you could barely hear her. Antonio then took a random jacket out of the girl's closet and put it on. Suprisingly, it fit. Thank goodness it was oversized like most of the othe stuff she seemed to have.

"Vy didn't you just take one of her shirts?" Gilbert questioned, curiously.

Spain protested that 'they were to kidnap her, not destroy her things'. Prussia didn't say anything else, slung the girl over his shoulder like a bag and the two proceed downstairs with their new prisoner.

**_ SMT_**

England couldn't take it anymore. Alfred was clinging to his right arm and trying to shove a hamburger into his mouth claiming that 'it's good for you because it's made by him the hero'. Arthur shook his arms, freeing himself from the hyperactive strawberry blond. He pushed America and got up from the couch.

"Iggy! Please just tr-" Alfred managed to wedge into the argument before getting cut off. He scuttled over the couch's armrest and hopped off. But before he could get any further, Arthur held up a hand signaling stop.

"No."

"Arthur come on! Please ju-"

"NO. I will not eat that bloody heart attack on a bun."

Alfred gave a hurt look and retaliated in slight anger. "Heart attack on a bun! Hamburgers are not heart attacks on buns!"

England sighed and gave America a sarcastic look. "You're right. They're hypertension on buns."

Alfred crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. Sitting back down on the cream colored love seat, he began to pout. Arthur scowled and walked into the kitchen. One of these days he's going to get a heart attack from all those burgers he engulfs at every minute of the day. _Where the hell did he get his horrible taste for food? _He walked up to the fridge too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice that he wasn't the only one there.

"Bonjour Angleterre." A soft voice purred.

Arthur turned around, his face bent in anger. What he saw was something worst than America's horrible slop – France. The french-man was seated on top of the granite counter-top, one leg crossed over the other and his right hand holding a small rose."What are you doing here you wanker!"

France gave a frown but then smiled again as usual. "Come now, mon Angleterre. I'm a juste 'ere to see you." Francis hopped off the counter and began walking toward Arthur as the latter began to inch away. "What the bloody hell do you want, frog?" Arthur raised his voice two octaves. France was starting to get close as the wall was.

"Oh~ You 'urt me so. Are you not 'appy to see me, cher?"

"No! I'm not happy to see you, you Gaul!" Arthur hissed with a scowl engraved on his face. At that moment Alfred burst through the kitchen door almost breaking the door off it's hinges.

"What the hell is-!" America started but shut up when he saw France.

_Merde. _He had been so close. That stupide Amérique. Why couldn't America just stay out of the way. He always had to take England. Because having Canada close to him just wasn't enough.

"Bonjour, Amérique." Francis said with venom in his voice. America walked up to France and glared at him. He wasn't suppose to be here. The next meeting wasn't for another two weeks at the end of the month. "Why's Frenchie here, Iggy?"

"I'm looking for mon Angleterre. And looks like I have found 'im."

"Wasn't talking to you. You're not needed here anyways. Go home." Alfred put his hands on his hips and gave his fellow French a stare that could rival with the tension of the Cold War.

France returned the look but fliched when Alfred started cracking all the joints he had.

"So Frog-butt? What's it gonna be?"

France scowled and stepped back. "Bon. I will take my leave. But not without some souvenirs."

America and England both gave France a confused look. France on the other hand, grabbed England's hand and pulled him forward. Alfred tried to grab Arthur's hand but missed. And before the two of them knew it, France had trapped England in a deep kiss. Arthur started to pound on Francis's chest while America could not believe what he was witnessing. France finally released England and left the poor Brit panting mercilessly, red faced. France then, spoke up again. "That was the first souvenir. The second one should be with mes amis. We will be borrowing 'er for un peu de temps."

And with that France causally walked out of America's kitchen without another word. America glared daggers at the man's back before coming to England's aid. Arthur had stopped panting but his rage had grew three-fold.

Alfred grabbed England by the shoulders and lightly shook him. "Dude! Are you alright?"

England hissed in response. "Does it look like I'm all right you twit! That unshaven, bloody frog! I'll curse him!"

America took a few steps back and put his hands in front of him; "Okay, okay dude. No need to be hatin' on me." Alfred cocked his head to the side and continued, "And what does France mean 'We will be borrowing her for un peu de temps?"

Arthur pondered for a minute. _We will be borrowing her for un... peu... de..._ His thoughts came to a sudden stop when he realized what the french nation had been hinting towards. "THE GIRL!" he screached in horror as he pushed America out of the way and rushed out of the kitchen.

"The girl?" America said confused. "What girl..." His eyes widened and he too fled out the kitchen after the English-man. The two made their way down the hallway and up the old stairs before running down the second hallway. England reached the girl's chosen room and flung the door open. It was totally disheveled. The closet was open and messy as if someone had briskly looked through it for something, the light on the coffee table was still on, the bed sheets were on the floor and so was her sketch pad. Alfred came rushing in and stopped at the site of the room.

"...Wow. What...a mess."

It wasn't before long that he was pushed aside again by Arthur who then stormed out of the room. America followed, calling after the Brit; "Dude! Arthur! Where ya goin'!"

England stopped and turned to face Alfred. With anger and determination, he said; "We're going to get her back. But not without some help first." And with that, Arthur took off down the hallway – Alfred trailing close behind.

**_ MWH _**

France proudly walked out of America's kitchen, happy about the kiss he stole. He saw Spain and Prussia coming down the hallway with the girl hanging off of the German's shoulder all gagged and tied up. He didn't say anything about Spain's new jacket, not really caring at the moment about his friend's fashion choices.

"Bon work, mes amis." He said with a smile on his bearded face. The girl was kicking weakly on Prussia's back. Francis went around his friend in order to see the girl. She lifted her head to see her captors leader. Slowly, tears ran down her face went she saw who it was. A small force pulled on the French's heart but he forced it away, thinking it was just his age finally taking a hit off him. The three fled out of the house and hailed for a taxi. The taxi driver didn't say anything and only took their directions to the hotel that was reserved for all the nations, but it was evident that he was scared. Antonio got in first, Gilbert got in second – pulling the girl with him and France got in last. The trip was going to be an hour and not two minutes ago had she fallen asleep in Gilbert's lap – Gilbert not so approving of it.

"Oi! Vhake up, girly! Your not allowed to take a nap on the awvsome-me." He whispered, lightly slapping her cheek. She refused to wake up and only snuggled closer into his lap causing the latter to lightly blush.

"Leave 'er alone, Gilbert. She will need all 'er energy for what eez to come." France said with a small smile. Antonio looked at her closely and commented as well.

"You know, she has the same color hair as mi Romano~" he squealed, the thought of South Italy just making him golden happy. Prussia scoffed and gave a mocking grin; "Und she fights like Österreich!"

All three laughed, making the driver more uncomfortable. The rest of drive was spent in a thick silence and when they got to the hotel, the child still wouldn't wake up, so Prussia had to carry her bridal-style. They tipped the driver a twenty and walked into the five-star hotel that was nestled between Central Park and Broadway. The entrance was a lovely gold and red, totally worthy of it's reknowned reputation. The doorman let them into the barren lobby, but this didn't worry the trio. The last meeting had been only for European nations since the subject had been North American-European trade relations. In a week every nation would have to come for a U.N. Conference, and knowing that, America had rented the whole hotel for one month. Although, about now everyone was out exploring the ever-changing New York City night-life. They came to a magnificent, carved, gold painted set of doors that belonged to the elevator. France looked up to see the words 'This Car Available' scribed on top of the doors. Antonio pressed the 'up' button causing the doors to open. They got in and waited for the machine to stop at the fourth floor.

France's room was 473 – a Manhattan suite. The walls were honey-toned and deep red velvet covered most of the furniture. In front of the white queen-sized bed was a oak desk with a flat-screen T.V. next to it and across the room near the large bay window was a slightly long, mahogany lounge. Gilbert tried to get her to sit upright on the bed as France pulled off her short, ankle height boots. When that was all done and said, France placed them near the entrance while Prussia laid the child down. Spain ran in and claimed the lounge chair making Gilbert resort to the swivel chair near the desk. Francis sat down on the bed next to the girl and started to undo the gag. She took a deep breath and snuggled deeper into the bed.

Prussia pulled out his phone and began to play a game; "Vell, all there is now is to vait for her to finally vake up."

**_ MWH _**

Lithuania walked into the room dressed in his usual green apron with a tray of hot cocoa. Estonia was seated on the couch, typing a speech on his newly bought laptop. The U.N. Conference would be in one week and it was up to him along with some of the other countries to type up speech on airport security. Latvia was cleaning the dishes from their previous meal.

"Estonia," Toris stared; "Would you like some-"

That's when the bell rung. But who would be here at this time, especially when there was a world meeting in less than seven days?

"Latvia~ Let me in, da?" A childish voice sung from the front porch. Latvia started to cry in the kitchen and Estonia just shook his head. "Why would Mr. Russia be here?" he questioned, tiredly. Eduard got up from his comfy seat and made his way to the door. He was greeted by a creepy smile on a large Russian man.

"Good Afternoon Mr. Russia. Vhat brings you here?" He started the conversation, but only to be cut off by a gloved hand in front of him.

"I vould to speak to Latvia. May I come in, Estonia?" Russia spoke in a very civil manner, catching the attention of all three Baltic nations. Estonia let him, his arm showing the way to the couch where he once sat. Ivan took a seat near his fellow nation and waited.

"Latvia~ Vhere are you? I vant to ask you something, da?"

From the kitchen came a trembling little boy, Latvia. He was in an apron that had his nation's flag on it and his already short hair was tied back. He came and sat down across from Russia in a armchair that was too big for him.

"Y-y-yes, M-mr. R-russia?" He shook in fear and it was evident in his voice. The boy's hand fiddled with the hem of the apron and he didn't dare make eye contact.

"Latvia~Your so small and cute in that apron." The Russian nation cooed. This stunned Estonia and Lithuania while a huge blush slowly faded onto Latvia.

"T-t-thank y-you Mr. R-russia." the small nation stuttered. Eduard sighed, Russia wasn't going to make this easy for them, was he?

Ivan crossed his legs and clasped his hands together making his finger intertwine. He then spoke in a very flat, and disturbing tone, "Latvia," he began, "You know vhere my sunflowers are, da?"

Raivis began to tremble all over again. Lithuania didn't know what to do, being stuck between Russia and Latvia. Sure, Russia wasn't in control of him or his country anymore, but that didn't mean he wasn't as scary as he was back then. He snapped back from his thoughts when his fellow nation gave an almost inaudible squeak.

Russia kept his neutral façade and told Latvia to repeat his answer. The boy spoke up one more but not by much.

"I-i-i s-said t-t-that B-belar-rus t-took them a-a-a-after t-the meeting..." Raivis stuttered all over again.

Russia gave a small hint of horror on his face before restraining it. If what his absolutely small and scrawny neighbor just said was correct, he would have to go to the one person he feared more than anyone on this whole earth; his sister - Belarus. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

* * *

**Translations; **Are there translations! Holy crap, where have I been?

[Bonjour] Good day. (Really?)

[Merde] Shit.

[Un peu de temps] A little time.

[Osterreich] Austria.

**Reviews for the poor! Reviews for the poor! Donate reviews for the poor! Thank you for all the reviews so far! Bisou!**


	7. Twists and Turns

**A/N;** Oh, well. Will you look at that? I'm not dead. Sorry, I'm a bad, lazy author. Bad author, bad. -Smacks her thigh twice.- No Hetalia for you. Would you like to hear my pathetic excuse? My computer got a bunch of viruses three times in a row. We had to reload everything on to it and my mom lost all my manga/anime pictures and all the typed drafts for the previous chapters. Nooo! I had a picture of Germany in a black speedo on there! He's musclely**. Everywhere**. Anyway. New twist! Muwahahaha! Have fun~. Chapter 8 and 9 will be up shortly. Thank goodness that i write out the chapter drafts first. Translations at the bottom.

**2nd A/N; **Well, the computer decided to reboot itself, so i had to re-do the translations. While I waited, I; cried in Spanish, got some grape juice, told my whinny cat to get a job and had a argument about where my mom and me his not-George Cloony's Body (?) and got some cheese. Ah~the wonders of what you can do in five minutes.

**Disclaimer: **Why can't I own Hetalia? Or at least get a kiss from Germany? Also, if i owned the Blackberry or Brick Breaker, I'd be rich enough to buy Germany in actual life.

* * *

"M-mr. R-russia?"

The world's largest country finally snapped out of his thoughts and redirected his attention to the other republics who now had worry etched into their expressions.

"M-mr. Russia?" Lithuania repeated, still holding the tray of cocoa that was bound to be cold by now. His face was painted over with concern for his previous boss and a bit for himself. Even for as long as he's known the Russian man, his old friend's mood swings were still unpredictable at times.

Ivan stood abruptly, startling everyone else.

"Thank you for your time, Latvia. Estonia. Leit." His brief thank you was even more surprising. He made his way to the Baltic's door, eyes on his broad back the whole time. The door closed with a single 'click', leaving the three others in shock. Russia didn't try to ask for advice. He didn't become scary or physical. He just...left.

Latvia ran back to the kitchen to finish the dishes, crying no less. Estonia gave a relieved and somewhat agitated sigh and got up to go comfort the smaller country. But Lithuania just stood there, thoughts and questions swimming through his mind furiously.

This was unexpected. Something must have happened to Russia for him to have such a large personality change. But what in the world would that be? He had seen this country through thick and thin. Nothing ever changed his ways.

His thoughts came to a halt.

"Toris, are you alright? Vould you like some help?" A voice called from the kitchen.

The Lithuanian turned his head to see only Eduard's torso popping out from behind the kitchen wall. Shaking off the slowly growing feeling of anxiety, he nodded and returned to his friends to remake the once hot chocolate beverage. He decided to deal with his worries later at the upcoming World Conference.

_** WXR**_

_She kept running down the hallway, her mary janes clicking against aged cream-colored tiles. A screech came from farther back and she realized it was catching up. Her legs pumped hard in order to put distance between the beast and herself, but it was slowly becoming a fruitless effort - the screeching got louder every second. Making a sharp right turn, she skidded into the grand entry of the school. Wait, she thought, since when was she in a school? She had no time to answer the question - for as the rather large grandfather clock tolled, she made her way up the main stairwell, gripping to the golden skeleton key all the more. With one more screech, the creature flew in after her, following her to the stairs with a face demented by choler and greed._

_She closed her eyes and against her heavy breathing whispered words of comfort to herself. She made sure not to look back no matter what happened and kept running. Her feet led her down another corridor - one similar to the previous. It seemed to go on forever but she spoke to soon when the end of the hallway greeted her with a single door. She reached for the door knob and tried to turn it but it wouldn't budge._

Come on, come on!

_Looking over her shoulder, she saw that it was heading straight for her._

Please open!

_She jiggled the knob again but it did her no good. She braced herself and put her arms on top of her head. When nothing came she squinted one eye open and came face to face with piercing red eyes. She screamed and then..._

_** MWH**_

They didn't know when it started but for a while now that she had been tossing and turning ever so slightly which in turn was making her blouse wrinkle. She began to break out into a cold sweat and it was beginning to unnerve the trio. France poured himself a second glass of wine from a bottle whose origin was unknown and Prussia was still Brick Breaker on his Blackberry. He closed his phone off and threw it on the table; "That is enough. Vha zhe hell is vhong vith zhis Mädchen?"

France placed his glass down on the nightstand and gave took a look at her. Her skin had a red glow so he put a hand to the girls' forehead. He filched back as if burned; she was starting to heat up horribly.

"Mon Dieu! She eez burning up!"

The girl began to mumble in her sleep causing all three countries to come closer.

"...Come...on...'me on..."

Spain blushed slightly; "What in el mundo is she dreaming about!"

"...s'il vous...plait...le...monstre est...ici..."

Her thrashing became a bit more violent and her breath turned into a labor pant. The expression on her face twisted into a pained one and that's when they realized she wasn't having 'those' thoughts; she was having a nightmare. Antonio untied her hands and Gilbert pulled off the sheets from her and unbuttoned her blouse.

"Wake up, petite, ouvrez vos yeux!" Francis said while shaking her mercilessly.

Her eyes shot open - startling all there men. She took a deep breath as she shot up from the bed, clutching to the area of heart chest where her heart supposedly was. Her eyes where wide with panic and horror suggesting what the girl had dreamt was a little more than she could handle. She shook her and gave a fake reassuring smile to herself; "Ha-ha. I haven't had one of those in a bit of while."

All three friends gave each other a look of suspicion. What the hell was 'one of those'? The child looked up at France, then Prussia and then Spain. "Why is the Bad Friend Trio standing around my bed? Oh yah, you guys kidnapped me." she snapped.

She looked down, then up; "Wait, scratch that. This isn't my bed; my bed is a crayon red color."

France wasted no time in getting to the point - He didn't have all day. "'ow do you know mon Angleterre?"

The girl giggled as she usually did and gave a sly smile. "Ton Angleterre? Donc, c'est vrai que tu et lui sont fiancés?"

It took a while for the words to sink in. What she had said was in French, right? So that would mean...France gave a look of shock and wonder. "Vous êtes française? Attends, comment savez-vous cela? Qui vous a dit?"

"Tout d'abord," She started; "mes parents sont français, donc. Je suis juste américaine. Et je sais cela parce que vous faites partie d'un anime."

The French-man sat down next to the girl. In turn she pulled her legs up from the remainder of the sheets and crossed them Indian-style. "Un anime? Comme Japon?" he asked curiously. "Oui." She said simply.

Prussia slammed a hand down on the comforter of the wide bed. "Warten Sie. You are Französisch?"

The girl's head slowly turned in a creepy way, scaring Gilbert a bit to much. "Non," she hissed "My parents are French. I am American." She didn't like to repeat things to impatient and rude people, even if they were previously an empire. She ignored the German and preceded to the last person. It wasn't nice to not say hello to everyone, was it, even if they did kidnap you. She then gave a sweet smile to Antonio and greeted him politely. "Hola, España. ¿Cómo estás?"

Spain shook his head in disbelief. An American, who could knew two foreign languages? But, wasn't America...dumb? "¿Usted puede hablar francés y español?"

She nodded her head nicely and replied; "Sí. Yo puedo hablar dos lenguas extranjeras."

Prussia waved a hand in his friend's faces not liking that he couldn't understand them. "Waittttt- I don't mean to sound like Westen, but remember what we got her for."

France coughed and stood up from the bed. "Oui. Well. We want to know what your relationship with l'Angleterre is."

She paused for and minute and then gave a howling laugh. "R-relationship?" the child said while wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes. "I just met him today. If you ask him, he would explain. He's quite a friendly person. Wait…did you think me and him…? Noooo, what is he, over a thousand years old? No way."

Francis slumped when the information finally sunk in. He had not only kidnapped a human who was technically one of his citizens but he had angered England to do it. If their 'relationship wasn't strained before, it was now. "Oh." was all he said.

The girl wiggled her thick dark-brown eyebrows provocatively. "What? You wanted something juicy, hmm?"

Gilbert gave her a stare like she was crazy. She giggled and waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Hahaha! I'm joking! C'est une blague!"

He walked back to the desk and plopped down in the swivel chair he was now accustomed to with crossed arms. "Vhell, zhat vas a vaste." Antonio shook his head in disagreement. "No it wasn't. We met someone new." He turned to her and asked; "¿Cómo te llamas?"

"Oh, I'm Julie Louise Lemarois and 14." She said while getting up and readjusting her disheveled clothes then putting her shoes back on. "So wait, can I have my jacket-"

Julie never did get to finish her sentence for at that exact moment a angered Austrian burst through the hotel room's door clearly upset.

"I just knew you vould be here dummkopf!" he calmly yelled at the Prussian with a finger directed at the culprit. "I've had enough of you molesting me like you have done so many other-"

Julie looked between the two, interested until she saw him staring at her.

Prussia swiveled around and only raised an eye brow when he saw there was no Hungary with him. But he spoke too soon. Behind Austria came Hungary armed with her infamous frying pan. She was slapping the bottom into her right palm and a dark aura engulfed her being. Prussia jumped from the chair and hid behind Spain. When Austria and Hungary caught eye of the girl, they stopped dead in their tracks.

"You have a human schlave!" he roared, even scaring his previous wife a bit. He grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragged her out of the room. She tried to protest against it but she had no idea what to say. Fury wasn't often seen on the Austrian nation. "Germany vhill hear about this! For now, she vhill stay vith me."

Hungary ran out of the room, pleading Austria to think about it first. Spain looked to France and asked whether they should go after. France only stared out of shock of what had just happened. Spain sighed and walked to the bed and saw that she had forgotten her blouse and he still was wearing her jacket. He would go and visit Austria with the Italies later to give her the articles of clothing back. Antonio then looked for his German friend. When he saw Prussia rocking himself in a corner and he huffed. This wasn't going to end well.

_** SMT**_

__England and America were currently kneeing in a Japanese styled room and it didn't take a genius to figure out where they were. Japan came in through the shoji-screen doors in a traditional kimono. He bowed to his guests and took a seat.

"Konbanwa Igirisu-san, Amerika-san."

England nodded polity in return. "Good Evening Japan. Can you do us a favor?"

Japan looked thoughtful for a moment. He was debating whether or not he should help England. He was his longtime ally, but…. "Maburye. But, what do you want me to do for you, Igirisu- san?"

The Brit had a dark, pained look on now. "Please. I know a human girl; a very sweet young lady. She was taken by France. Please get her back. I don't want her to be tainted or hurt by that frog. I know I can't do it; he won't take me seriously." He said and looked to America. "And I most certainly will _not_ leave it to this git." He pointed a finger.

Kiku gave the request a thought. Hmm…it did seem as though this onnanoko was unusually important to the British nation. Maybe he could get some information for a yaoi….but he would need help. France was a dangerous; not militaristic but sexually.

"Okai Enguran-san. But pureasu, stop sending your sucones."

Arthur gave a sigh of relief and then a worried look. "What, you don't like scones?" he gave a hurt look.

Japan replied with a white lie; "It's not that….Anyway, pureasu wait at your home until I call you. I will ask Doitsu-san for help."

America spoke for the first time in a while. "See Iggy? I told he'd help." He didn't like seeing his former caretaker in pain. It wasn't the first time, but it still was unbearable. And in all honesty, he was a bit worried too that Japan would have said 'no'. His smile wasn't sunny like usual – it was more uncertain in a way, but only slightly.

Arthur returned Alfred's smile. He was relieved, but only by a bit. He didn't want to think about if the girl was scared or more horrible things have happened to her. France wasn't the safest of countries with Spain and Prussia. She was too sweet for such things to happen to her. He didn't even know how they got past the security. He was just glad that Japan had said yes. And if Germany was helping, she'd be back in no time.

"Thank you Japan. We will be waiting for your phone call." England said as he got pulled up by America who was now standing. The two left a bit less worried then before but not by much. Japan nodded as they went and left the room to prepare for his mission. This meant going to his previous accomplices in Europe; Germany and possibly – hopefully not – Italy. There was a lot to be done.

_** MWH **_

Russia closed the door lightly and began to part from the Baltic's residence. Risk his life for his sunflowers or just buy some new ones? After much thinking and a _long_ walk, he decided to approach his younger sister at the upcoming World Conference in a week. In the meantime he would complete the speech for his position with South Korea. He pushed open the frozen wooden to his large but empty mansion and took off his shoes to reveal thick woolen socks.

Ukraine heard the door open and came running down the lengthy hallway. "Брат! You came back! How was your trip?"

Russia ruffled his sisters' hair and smiled quietly. "Это было в порядке. Латвии is still very cute, but he must be cold for he shivers all the time."

Katyusha smiled back. "The Борщ is done and the table is set." She led him to the dining room where two bowls of the pink soup was waiting for them quietly with a dollop of sour cream in each. There was a big bottle of Russia's favored vodka in the middle of the table causing him to smile. _That is nice_, he thought. "So," Ukraine started again; "Who has your sunflowers?"

Ivan froze as he was taking a seat. He continued but ever so slowly. "Наша младшая сестра имеет их." He said at the same rate. Ukraine looked down and didn't say a thing.

"I will ask for them back at the next World Conference." He stated.

Katyusha gave a small, scared smile.

"Ok, Брат."

The rest of the night was spent in foreboding silence.

* * *

**Translations; **Holy Freedom Fries! Five languages?

[Mädchen] Girl

[Mon Dieu!] My god!

[El mundo….] the world….

[...s'il vous...plait...le...monstre est...ici...] …Please, the monster is here…

[Ouvrez vos yeux!] Open your eyes !

[Ton Angleterre? Donc, c'est vrai que tu et lui sont fiancés?] Your England ? Then, it's true that you and he are fiancés?

[Vous êtes française? Attends, comment savez-vous cela? Qui vous a dit?] You're French ? Wait, how do you know that ? Who told you ?

[Tout d'abord, mes parents sont français, donc. Je suis juste américaine. Et je sais cela parce que vous faites partie d'un anime.] First of all, my parents are French, so. I'm just American. And I know that because your part of an anime.

[Un anime? Comme Japon?] An anime ? Like Japan?

[Warten Sie…..Französisch?] Wait...French?

[Hola, España. ¿Cómo estás?] Hi Spain. How are you?

[¿Usted puede hablar francés y español?] You can speak French and Spanish?

[Sí. Yo puedo hablar dos lenguas extranjeras.] Yes. I can speak two foreign language.

[Westen] West

[C'est une blague!] It's a joke!

[¿Cómo te llamas?] What's your name?

[…dummkopf!] …Stupid head !

[Konbanwa] Good evening

[Onnanoko] Girl

Yaoi = Lemons :D

[Doitsu-san] Germany

[Это было в порядке. Латвии…] It was alright. Latvia…

[Брат] Brother

[Борщ] Borsch

[Наша младшая сестра имеет их.] Our young sister has them.

**If anyone is out of character...TELL ME! ONEGAI! I need constructive critisisim, preferably in the form of a review. Also, if you want to comment in other languages, feel free to do so. I can read many languages so...yah. -Puts on 'Goodbye Mr. A' by The Hoosiers- Time to go chase my cat Russia-style.**


	8. Misunderstandings

**A/N; **Bon Soir! Okay just to answer some comments. One, she is NOT me. She may have my name, but the personally is different. I'm much mature in front of adults than her. I would NEVER wiggle my brows at an adult. And no one is falling in love with her, unless you want that to happen. I'll put up a poll on my profile if you want Country x OC or Country x Country. After one month I'll put up pairings, so yah. Also, that last chapter was written a month ago but I was having problems posting. If you're having problems posting for Hetalia Axis Powers or other topics, go to edit and replace **story_edit_property **with**story_edit_content**. I got to finish this up 'cause I have ballroom dancing lessons in twenty minutes. I'm doing Merengue tonight. As a last thing, I was seeing comments and story traffic. **OMG.** You guys make me happy like Italy with a lifetime supply of pasta! Over twenty comments! You guys are Awesome like Prussia! And the fact that people from Canada, Russia, Italy and Germany reading this fanfic is mind blowing. So just for you guys, I say thank you in all of your languages. Thank you! Merci! Gracias! Danke! Cảm ơn bạn! Salamat sa iyo! Grazie! Спасибо! Dziękuję! Tack! Kiitos! Wow that was long. Proves how diverse we really are. Enjoy! Translations at the bottom.

**Disclaimer: **Aww, crap. I was reviewing my chapters and I saw that I forgot to say that I don't own Hetalia or Loft 67. I wish i didn't have to say it 'cause I die a little inside when I do.

* * *

He had enough of this. He simply couldn't take it anymore. The enraged Austrian stomped – polity he would add – down the hallway of the hotel. He was going to settle this once and for all. Behind him trailed his previous spouse, slapping her infamous frying pan against the palm of her hand. Normally he would have been frightened by this act, but as of now, his anger was in control. The hotel room he was looking for came into view and he began 'stomping' towards it. It was room 437, of course a Manhattan Suite; he expected no less of France. This time he didn't knock, he burst through the door.

"I just knew you vould be here dummkopf!" he calmly yelled at Prussia who was sitting in a swivel chair with a finger directed at the culprit. In fact, he wasn't lying. He had seen the albino run after Antonio and Francis just to escape a beating from his ex-wife. "I've had enough of you molesting me like you have done so many other-"

His sentence slowed and eventually stopped as his eyes drifted to the brunette who was standing near the bed, fixing her clothes. She started to switch her vision back and forth between him and Prussia continuously until she caught him staring.

Prussia turned around in his seat and raised only a brow. But not even two seconds after, the ex-nation jumped from the chair with a horrified look on his face and hid behind Spain who was trying to figure out the situation.

"You have a human schlave!" he hollered.

He couldn't believe this. He knew all three nations did take a certain 'pleasure' in…. those things – but he would have ever thought them to be so low to turn to a prostitute! He was _not_ going to take this. He was going to teach this young girl how to be a proper lady!

He walked - stomped, really - up to the girl and grabbed her wrist. "Germany vhill hear about zhis! For now she vhill stay vith me."

Austria stormed out of the room, girl in hand. Her fingers were trying to shove her wrist out of his hand's grasp, but it didn't work. "Come on, let go of me! What's your problem?"

He could hear Hungary's shoes tapping down the hallway after them. "Mr. Austria! Please, think this through! Maybe it's just a misunderstanding!"

Julie looked to Hungary, then back to Austria. "Yeah, what she said! It's a misunderstanding! S'il vous plaît, let go of me!"

They neared the end of the hall, and got to the elevator but his grip didn't die. Austria pressed a button and sternly announced to the girl; "Young lady. Zhis is not the vay to make a living! You shall become a proper child!"

She gave him a confused look. What way wasn't the right way to live life? Being lax? Ok, so maybe she was a tad bit late to most things, but live and let live, right?

"What- what the hell are you talking about! What you mean proper child! I'm fourteen! I don't even know you!"

Austria tsk-ed and pulled her into the elevator, Hungary by his side. "Young vumen do not curse, much less yell." Julie looked at him with anger. "I can do what ever the hell I want, you're not my mother!" she cried while he tightened his hold on her hand.

The elevator came to a stop and Roderich dragged her out with Hungary still close by. The girl continued to protest, much to Austria's dismay. "Let go of me! Help!"

"Do not make a shcene." He hissed, noticing that some lobby staff were being to stare. He made it outside and called for a taxi. All three got in, tension thick like the fog in England after it rains. Austria gave a card to the driver and soon they were off. Julie just pouted the whole way, looking out of a window. She didn't need to take this crap!

Hungary snuck a look at the two grouches. Was the girl really a prostitute? She had said that she was only fourteen. Was it possible to become a prostitute at such an age now a days? She leaned over to the girl and whispered in her ear; "It's okay, Mr. Austria isn't mean. He's just a bit strict."

Julie looked up at her with in surprise. Mr. Austria? So did that mean….there were other countries that have been personified? "Wait, so you guys are-"

The taxi came to a halt and both Hungary and the girl were forced to get out. Roderich gave the cab driver some money and got out as well. "Zhis is vhere I stay vhen I am in New York."

Julie looked around and immediately recognized the area as the Upper East Side. All the buildings seemed to be different than most you'd find in Manhattan. They had a more artistic touch to them while maintaining their classic Yankee origin.

They headed for a building with the numbers '67' on the front. The building itself wasn't anything flashy but the inside was nothing to sneeze about. A very modern décor was chosen as the main theme for the apartment building. All three took to the fourth floor and stopped before a white regal door. Austria pulled out a pair of keys and opened the door. Julie's mouth dropped when she saw where she was going to be staying (against her will). It was absolutely lovely. Spacious and Victorian but new aged all at the same time.

Roderich showed the girl in and introduced his abode. "Zhis is vhere you vill be staying for zhe meanvhile. Your room shall be directly on zhe left." He continued to talk and explain the rules of his home. "No cooking, I do not vant you in my kitchen. Do not touch zhe piano, if you do, you shall be punished. I have a meeting in less than a vheek. I shall bring you und one of my collogues vhill deal with you."

Austria whisked away to begin preparing his speech, leaving Hungary to take care of the girl. "Come on," she chimed, "let's see if we can't find you some nice clothes to wear."

She led Julie to the bedroom on the left and sat her down on the lavender pigmented sheets of the small bed. Hungary opened a small closet and began rummaging through it. Soon enough she pulled out a white dress with blue flowers on it.

"Well, come on, undress. We're both girls, nothing to be embarrassed about sweetie." She said with a sweet smile. So that's just what the girl did. She pulled off her black tank top, tugged off her jeans, and flung her boots against a wall. Hungary began to dress her before she noticed something peculiar. The girl had scars all over her back and legs. Not just one or two small ones like most children have, at least fifteen in every place. Some more faded then others but still there.

"Sweetie why do you have scars all-" she started but Julie spun around and hid her body.

"It's nothing."

"Really, because-"

"It's nothing!"

Hungary stared at the girl. Why was she so worked up over scars? "Sweetie, are you really a prostitute?"

The child started and then gave her a look. "Wha-what? No, never. I'm a regular New Yorker."

Elizabeta nodded. There was no way this girl could be a prostitute. _But that still doesn't explain the scars._ "Then why do you have scars all-"

"I don't want to talk about it, ok?"

Hungary sighed. "Ok, but we have to dress you."

Julie slowly walked back over to the other women and waited while she was dressed. She had never really been dressed by anyone like this so it was a bit weird, but in a way she liked it. Just the fact of it made her feel like royalty.

Hungary finished and dusted the girl's dress off. It was sleeveless and had a big blue bow as a sash. She gave he girl a pair of frilly ankle-high socks and waited for the child to finish. Julie stood up and spun around just for show. Elizabeta clapped and announced; "Well, now that we're done, after we brush your hair and tie it back correctly, it will be time to present yourself to Mr. Edelstein."

What a minute. Not ten minutes ago had she said Mr. Austria! So which one was it – Mr. Austria or Mr. Edelstein? She had to leave that question for later as Hungary whisked her out of the room, and into the bathroom right next to it. She sat Julie down on a stool and began to brush her hair. How long has it been since someone brushed her hair – seven, eight years? She couldn't even remember the last time her mother brushed her hair. Living in New York meant almost never having time for others, especially with an only parent.

Elizabeta set the brush down, tied the kid's hair back loosly and pulled Julie up. She then brought her past some pantry closets, in and out of a short hallway, by the foyer and the kitchen into the music room.

Just outside the mahogany doors Julie could hear a soft tune playing. Strangely, it sounded like a piano. Hungary opened the doors and let the child into the large room with a single piano. There, sitting in deep concentration on the bench, was none other than Austria. He was in the middle of playing a beautiful piece; The Skater's Waltz. All finger dancing across the keys not missing one note as thought they were dancing to the melody.

Julie ran pass a now slightly flustered Hungary up to Austria.

"Mr. Edelstein?"

Roderich looked up and came out of his trance. He slowly stood up and twirled his finger in the shape of a circle. The girl spun around for show making the edges of the dress fly slightly. Austria nodded in approval.

"Isn't zhat better? Now v'e must teach you manners."

Julie gaped. "Mr. Edelstein. I already know how to set a table and how to speak politely. I already know how to dance several European and Latin dances and how to eat properly!"

Austria pondered in confusion. "Zhen vy do you insist on being a prostitute? Especially to zhose three good-for-nothings?"

Tears began to well at the corners of the girls' eyes. "I'm not a prostitute!" she cried, "I am not! I'm currently staying with Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland!"

Small tears began to run down her flushed face and Hungary ran up with a handkerchief to dab her wet cheeks. Austria got flustered when Hungary gave him a small death stare.

_Arthur and Alfred, hmm? ...Wait, this girl knows of the countries personifications! That is highly confidential!_

He patted the girls' head and made his way out of the piano room and to the living room. _Germany will hear of this too._

_** MWH**_

England paced the foyer nervously with his arms clasped behind him as America followed with his gaze. Alfred hadn't eaten a single burger in a few hours and England was starting to worry for America as was America for he. Alfred finally stood up and grabbed Arthur by his wrist.

"Iggy, stop it. We have Japan helping us and we both know he has many connections. France is not getting away with this. She'll be fine."

England looked up at America with a face contorted in anxiety. He wasn't so sure. "I don't want her to be hurt because of me. She was very sweet to me when most are not. She's polite and considerate. I don't want that frog to taint her with his sick ways."

Alfred squeezed Arthur's arm a bit harder and his brows crinkled together. "She will be fine. Japan has Germany on his side, and we all know how scared of Germany France is." He faked a smile; "She'll be back before you know it."

Arthur sighed shakily. "I do hope so, for her sake."

_** LTR**_

Japan was sitting quietly on the porch looking out into the rock garden .He had to go about this carefully. France was a tricky one and could be vicious when he wanted to be. This would take planning and possibly an accomplice. He slowly rose to his feet and walked into the traditional Japanese house with his dog flowing close by. Kiku knew just the person to call – Germany. He had originally planed to call his long time friend but only if necessary. He didn't want to trouble Doitsu-san but you had to admit, he was a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew how afraid France was of Germany. He would tell Germany the details over the phone and then meet up with the said nation. Japan dialed the to the German country's house.

"Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen."

"こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか？"

* * *

**Translations;**

[Dummkopf] Stupid Head

[Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen.] Hello, Germany speaking.

こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか ? [Hello, Germany. May I ask a favor of you?]

**Wow, I kinda like this chapter. Not many translations = not much copying and pasting. Please review or England shall leave you scones.**


	9. New Leads

**A/N; **Okay, I'm ready to kill somebody. This is the third time I'm re-doing my author's note. One in the morning - didn't save. Then again in my Studio Art class - didn't save. Anyways, OMG. New chapter! Well, sorry to say, don't be so excited. This is just a lead-up into the next two chapters, which is where the real drama begins. That's when everyone meets the girl at the U.N. conference.

**A/N2; **Also I have many reasons why this is late. One; I got my first laptop - Squee! Two; This whole month, especially this week, has been really Hetalia. My and my otaku friends found a guy in our school who looks **exactly** like Estonia, a dude who looks like Japan, and a France. We all now have a habit of sending each other Hetalia notes by stuffing pieces of paper with Hetalia drawn all over it into each other lockers. There was a cultural day at our school too, and they put up every country's flag. Of course, we just _**HAD**_ to take pictures, discuss Hetalia scenes and cosplay. Good times...and lastly, I went insane and bought a bunch of manga including the second Hetalia manga book.

**A/N3; **So, yah. Next chapter will be up next week. I had a bit of writer's block for Germany's opening scene so I used music to help. I do not have an obsession with the song; **Celos Remix by Fanny Lu Ft. JKing Maximan**. Check it out, it's good for writer's block, really. Translations at the bottom.

**A/N4; **Damn, too many authors notes. Sorry for all my hogwash. I reviewed the chapter and fixed it. Sorry, I just posted the chapter quickly 'cause I had to run off to dance class and I didn't get to look at it really. 'Getting a salsa routine.

**Disclaimer: **I still trying to steal England's magic spell book to make it possible that I own Hetalia. No luck so far...

* * *

Sunlight shone through the cotton yellow curtains and glistened on the glass coffee table in the foyer, a certain German sat on a brick red, leather couch. The blonde sighed as he mulled over the day's events so far. He had woken up with Italy next to him, mumbling half asleep about pasta, and naked no less. To get dressed and out of the house was like pulling teeth and when they finally got to the North American-European trade conference Ludwig's day became even more stressful. America wouldn't stop with his stupid ideas. Russia sat on um…who was that again? And when it couldn't possibly get any worse, his bruder decided to flirt with Feliciano. This made Romano furious and he had to scold his bruder while dealing with two Italians; one crying a Red Sea and one about to assassinate him on the spot. Gilbert then groped Austria, almost died at the hands of Hungary's frying pan and ran off to join his two equally troublesome friends to God knows where.

Germany sighed once more and went back to reading his book. He just hoped the rest of the day would go a bit more smoothly than the morning. Italy was currently in the kitchen cooking pasta – no surprises there. But to be truthful, it was nice to have someone around, even if they were…what's the word to describe it? Hyperactive? Weak? Well, even if they were, well, Italy.

The said European nation looked out of the old world-styled dining room, and poked his head past the wall, to see what Germany was doing.

"Ve! Doistu! Vieni qui! Il pranzo è pronto! I made Fettuccine!"

Ludwig laid the book on the coffee table and got up. "Ja, ja. I'm coming Italia."

Germany slowly made his way through the foyer past the front door and entered the next room through a large archway. The table was made of beautiful cherry oak, the chairs had the same design and a small layer of plush red leather. The floor was made of yellowing tiles and the curtains perfectly matched the style of it all. He took a seat across from Italy's place setting – if it was possible, due to the table being round.

Feliciano was rummaging through some of the cupboards, looking for old spices he hadn't used in awhile and other trinkets. He pulled some embroidered napkins from a miniature linens closet at the far end for the room and came back to the aged table. Italy gave set the spices down and started to lay out the napkins when the phone rang.

'Rinnng Rinnng Rinnng'

Italy looked up from his task. "Ve, I wonder who that is…"

Germany got up with a grunt and strode over to the phone near the entrance. Italy rushed past him and picked it up. The redhead was immediately greeted by an obviously irritated voice.

"Ludvig? Ludvig! I vant to discuss something vith you right now! Ludvig!"

Italy smiled. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to. "Ve, Ciao Mr. Austria! It's so lovely outside today, no?" There was a small silence but not for long.

"Italia! Italia get off ze phone! I must speak to Ludvig zis instance!"

Italy didn't have time to respond as the phone was pulled from his fingers. He leaned near Ludwig and listened carefully as his friend and Austria began to converse.

"Ludvig! Ludvig! Are you listening?"

"Ja, Ich bin höre Ihnen zu."

A small sigh came from the other side of the line. "Gut. Do you know vhat I found when I vhent to scold your brother on his vulgar ways?" Germany's eyes widened ever so slightly. _Bitte Gott, bitte it's not porno. He'd _never_ let me hear ze end of it._ "Vhat did you find?" Ludwig's ear almost pealed off at the volume of Austria's next few comments.

"He vas vith France, Spain und a girl! At first because of her disheveled appearance und horrible blond highlight I had mistaken for a prostitute, but _nein!_ She is currently staying vith England und Amerika!"

Germany shook his head and face-palmed. " Österreich, many humans have stayed in my house und other nation's houses over ze many years I have lived. It is nothing new."

Roderich scoffed. "Ja, I know of zhat. But she is only a young commoner yet she knows vhat v'e are. Zhat is a violation!" Those last few words gave way to a long, unsettling silence. Ludwig coughed. "Ah, um. Ja…"

Roderich made his objective very clear; "I hope you vhill take care of zhis." Italy looked up at Germany with an unsettling feeling in his heart, then back to the phone in his friend's hands. "Ve…Doitsu…." Germany gave a not so reassuring nod.

"Ja, vhell. I vhill take care of-" But Austria left him no time to think the situation through. "Gut. Stellen Sie sicher, dieses Problem zu lösen."

Click. And that was the end of it – no discussion. Italy tugged on Germany's sleeves with a worried face that was so rarely seen on the Mediterranean country. "Ve…Doitsu….what are you going to do? What about la ragazza?" Ludwig placed the phone on the receiver and hid his face in his hands. Was it really this hard to have a normal day?

"I shall talk to Amerika und England about it at the U.N. Conference zhis vheek."

"Ve…But Doitsu, that meeting is in a week…."

Germany sighed for the tenth time today. "Ja, I know. Now please, can v'e eat?"

Italy immediately brightened at the thought of pasta. "Si!" he squealed and ran off to the dinning room at 60 miles per hour. Germany followed close by but the phone ran once again. He quickly picked it up not wanting to keep the Italian waiting.

"Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen."

"こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか？"

"Ah, Hallo Japan. Vhat is zhis favor you vhould like me to do?"

"May I come over to your house today, Doitsu?"

"Sicher, but, vhat for?"

"…..There is something that I must tarlk to you about. And I might need your herlp with this."

Quickly checking the dinning room to see if Italy was distracted with setting the table – which was affirmative – Germany agreed to Japan's request and set a time for the 'meeting'. Kiku would be coming over in about an hour since his New York house in Greenwich Village was close to theirs. All he hoped was that it wasn't anymore bad news.

_** About An Hour Later**_

Japan had left his house no more than forty minutes ago and was now on his way to Germany's place. He heard Italy calling his old friend to dinner over the phone and realized this was going to be like their Axis Powers meetings all over again. The only part different would be the fact that they were in New York City and not stranded on an unknown island. Even thought he wore a thick scarf like Russia, the February seemed to still be able to get through his clothes and give him chills. Germany's house was coming in sight causing Kiku to speed walk through the crowds of New York. He reached the stoop of his old allies' house and knocked quietly twice. A stern face adorned with piercing blue eyes quickly greeted him; "Hallo Japon," Ludwig led Japan into his abode, "Veeh just finished lunch. Vould you like something?"

Japan shook his head lightly. "いや、ありがとう。Herro Itaria." He wove a small, pale hand to the Italian in the foyer. Italy jumped up from his spot on the couch and sped towards the little Asian nation. He was almost squeezed to death by the brunette's sudden surge of energy.

"Ciao Giappone! Ve! How are you!"

Kiku couldn't think straight due to the amount of touchy-feely going on. He face heated up and was most likely red as one of Antonio's tomatoes. "I-I-I-I-Itaria! お願い, やめなさい！"

Feliciano finally put him down and apologized. All three headed into the foyer and took seats - Italy in the lead. The Italian jumped into his seat and patted the open seat next to him, signaling to Germany to take a seat. Japan on the other hand, walked in slowly and decided to take a seat across from the Europeans. Ludwig looked at Kiku and wasted no time getting straight to the point; "So, Japan. Vhy are you here?"

Kiku nodded and began his story;

"Ah, はい。さて、my day was nomual untirl Igirisu-san came over. He asked for my herlp and expurained that had a young girul staying with him but she was kiddunapped by Furansu-san, Supain-san, and your bruother – Puroshia-san. I need to return her to Igirisu-san and I would like your herlp."

Germany thought about it for a minute, and then something occurred to him. Didn't Austria say that the girl he had seen was currently staying with England and America? And yet the girl Japan was looking for was a girl England asked him to look for. If this was the same child that they were looking for, this situation could prove to be more trouble than it was worth.

"Japan," he started, "did England give you a description of zhe girl?" Japan paused for a minute.

"He said to rook for a burondu sutreaku."

Every so slowly, Italy's eyes opened leaving Germany and Japan staring. Feliciano looked towards Ludwig; "Ve…Doitsu, the girl Austria told you about also has a blond streak…" Kiku glanced at Germany, Italy and then Germany again. "Doitsu-san…What did Ausutria-san tell you?"

Germany coughed and began to explain of how Italy and he were about to sit down to lunch when Austria had called. He explained the way Austria sounded flustered and irritated from the other side of the phone line and how he demanded that Ludwig do something about soon as possible.

Japan stood up and bowed in gratitude to his long time friends. "Sank kyuu. I shall sree you at the upucoming U.N. meeting."

"Ve Come again Giappone!"

Japan was led to the door and seen out. They said their adieus and as Germany and Italy went back their regular routine, Japan headed home. Kiku knew that tomorrow was to be a long one but he had to prepare no matter how tired he was. His visit to Austria's wasn't going to be easy.

_** MWH**_

Austria slammed he phone into the receiver, more irritated than ever.

"Dummkopf!"

As he walked back to the music room, he calmed himself to appear as if nothing had happened. Roderich lightly pushed the doors open to reveal Hungary with the girl asleep in her lap. Elizabeta was running her hand through the girl's hair when she looked up at Austria. She gave a small smile; "She fell asleep, poor thing. She must be horribly tired."

Roderich nodded and huffed. "Ja. Put her to bed and I vhill vake her vhen it is time for dinner."

Hungary lifted the girl into a bridal style and walked past Austria, leaving him to himself. Out the music room, past the dinning and living area, and through the hallway, she got to the room where she had first undressed the child and slowly pushed the door open with her foot due to a lack of free hands. She lifted up the sheets and placed the girl down on the little bed that resided in the room. Tucking the child in, her mind wondered to other thoughts. _…Her scars…I should tell Mr. Austria of them…_ She shook her head and pushed the thought away for later – dinner wasn't going to make itself. Hungary dimmed the lights and walked out of the room, pulling the door shut with her. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Translations;**

[Vieni qui! Il pranzo è pronto! ] Come here! Lunch is ready!

[Ja, Ich bin höre Ihnen zu.] Yes, I'm listening to you.

[Gut.] Good.

[Bitte Gott] Please God.

[Österreich] Austria

[Gut. Stellen Sie sicher, dieses Problem zu lösen .] Good. Make sure to solve this problem.

[La ragazza] The girl.

[Hallo, Deutschland zu sprechen.] Hello, Germany speaking.

[こんにちはドイツ。私はあなたの頼みもいいですか？ ] Hello Germany. May I ask you for a favor?

[Sicher] Sure.

[Ciao Giappone!] Hi Japan!

[お願い, やめなさい !] Please, stop!

[はい。さて ...] Yes. Well...

[Dummkopf!] Stupid head!

**Damn. For a small chapter, this had alot to copy and paste. Tell me if anything is wrong.**

**Anyway, yah - you! Yah, the Canadian! REVIEW or shall hide all of your maple syrup! Mauh ha ha ha ha!**


	10. Some Thoughts and Worries

**A/N; **Ok. You can hate on me, but I have a valid reason. Testing. Yah, it's that time of the year again. The time when New York state works you 'till your eyes are bleeding and you're hand is offically crippled due to constant writing. Also, I have decided to cut the chapter. But I have the next two chapters typed up, so I'll be updating sooner that this. So, this is your friday miracle. Translations at the bottom. Ah, also, please vote on the poll on my profile. Pairings don't come for awhile but still.

**Disclaimer: **I want to own Hetalia for my birthday, but I'll have to wait until December...

* * *

Roderich watched as Hungary departed from the room with the teenager in her arms. _Really_, he thought, _Women nowadays should be more modest and delicate._ He turned back around, closed the lid to the grand piano and grabbed his sheet music to place somewhere for later. Pushing the bench back near the piano, he too departed from the room and closed the doors behind him. Many thoughts were racing through his mind as he walked past the kitchen mindlessly and made a right into a hallway. Austria shoved the questions away as he neared a pair of bland, chestnut colored doors. He pushed them open and entered the room.

There was a regal desk at the far end containing whatever papers he had for this week's upcoming meeting accessorized with a leather swivel chair. A single bookcase on the right was overflowing with some copies of American novels like 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer', a few books by German philosophers and more stacks of sheet music then one could count.

The rug looked worn out and the red curtains were drawn tight. The image of the room was anything but inviting yet that wasn't of importance to Austria. He walked over to the desk and pulled a drawer open. After placing the sheet music in, he closed the drawer and walked back out of the room not bothering with the doors this time. Roderich made his way to the kitchen to help Hungary start the dinner but stopped when he saw that she had already started.

"Elizabeta," Roderich started. She turned around briefly before going back to peeling the carrots.

"...Are you making Gulasch?"

Hungary nodded; "Yes. I'm working on the vegetables right now."

Austria hummed the 'Skater's Waltz' as he started to pull out all kinds of different ingredients from the cupboards. His humming was soft but you could tell that he was bothered and Hungary heard it.

"Mr. Ausztria… is bothering you?" she questioned while grabbing a few Cayenne chilies from a hanging basket that was just overhead.

Austria shook his head absentmindedly while mixing the ingredients for dough. "Nein…It's just…vhat are v'e going to do if the other countries learn of her?"

Elizabeta put the sliced Cayennes, carrots and onions into a bamboo bowl – curtsey of Japan – and began cutting a pound of beef chuck into cubes. She looked over to Austria to see what he was doing and giggled when she figured out what he was making. _Almeásrétes._ Mr. Ausztria is so predictable. Her laughing died as another matter invaded her mind. Should I tell him of the scars? I don't want him to worry, but….

"Elizabeta, can you hand me ein Messer and one of the roller pins?"

Hungary shook her mind free of all thoughts then proceeded to one of the utensil drawers.

"….Mr. Ausztria…."

Roderich looked up from kneading to see Hungary handing him the aforementioned knife and roller pin. He thanked her briefly before cutting the dough into three small separate loafs. A long silence prevailed for the better half of the hour while Elizabeta went back to preparing the goulash. After a while was beginning to unnerve Austria. As he finished brushing the apple strudel with melted butter and placed the finished product, he tried recreating the conversation; "So vhat vhill you be presenting at the Vhorld Conference, Elizabeta?"

The Hungarian looked up from the soup pot confusion; "Huh?"

"I said-" he started but was cut off.

"Oh. Well, I've thought up a few methods for solving the global warming issues and I will be proposing my ideas at the meeting."

Austria shook his head thoughtfully and took a seat at the dinning table that resided near by. "Hmm. I shall be presenting a revised version of the Austrian budget as a foundation for the rest of Europas economy."

Elizabeta looked up surprised. This was one of the few times Austria decided to take part in the meeting, since he had an unexplained distaste for the other countries. Of course, not every country had a perfect unscarred relationship. At that moment, a certain troubling thought came back on cue I…should tell him about the scars…Yah! Yah…I should….

"….Mr. Ausztria…"

Roderich snapped out of spacing out. This was so unlike him. Spacing out? Usually he was alert and proper with a clean mind. What was making him so troubled – the girl? How could a simple girl make his so distressed? He stood up and shook the thoughts away again.

"Yes Elizabeta?" he said while walking over to the oven to get the completed pastries.

Hungary tapped her nails against the granite of the countertop worried what Austria might have to say about the scars. But still! She had to help this girl. Why did the child have so many scars in the first place?

"Ah – Um. That is…I have something to tell you about."

Roderich titled his head. What in the world could possibly be so hard to say?

"Yes. Vhat is it?"

She walked up to him and took his hand causing the faintest of a blush to spread across his cheeks. They walked to the dinning to the dinning table and once again, Austria took a seat. Hungary took the set next to her ex and breathed in deeply.

"The girl, when I was dressing her I found-" she began but Austria didn't want to hear it; "Elizabeta! Do not tell me of such vulgar things!" The blush had gotten deeper and it wasn't helping.

"No, no! It's nothing like that!" Hungary innocently waved her hands in front of herself for emphasis. "The child has scars."

The Austrian looked taken aback. "Elizabeta, every human has scars not matter how young.

Elizabeta shook her head. "No, she has a lot. All over her back! That's not right for a girl of fourteen!"

Roderich shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder; "Elizabeta look-"

Their conversation was brought to an abrupt end when a sound came from down the hallway to the girl's room. **Bang. Thump.** "Sorry!" They both looked at each other and sighed. Austria to his hand off of Hungary' shoulder and began to walk off in the direction of the sound but not before turning around. "Ve'll continue this discussion later."

_**-MWH-**_

"Ugh…." Julie cracked one eye open but remained still.

The room was shrouded in darkness except for a streak of light on the wall that was emanating from the door. An irritated sigh escaped from her lips. This would always happen; She'd get so tired that she'd fall asleep, and a few hours later, she would wake up feeling groggy and dizzy, with no sense of time. Kicking the bed sheets away from herself, she slowly pulled her self up into a sitting position. After a wide yaw, she fell back on to the bed and stretched her arms out.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Huh…. I guess I should get up." She mumbled to no one in particular. Julie rolled over on her side and stared blankly at the door before rolling over again and falling onto the carpet. She groaned and pushed herself up off the floor lazily. After tugging her dress to and making it somewhat neat, she began dragging her feet towards the door. IT didn't help that she was in the dark, but what did she care? Julie pulled the door open and wincing at the sudden burst of light. _Why did I do that?_ She rubbed her eyes and pushed the door out of the way. Everything in the hallway was covered in darkness too, so she hand to use the wall to guide her. **Bang.** Halfway through she bumped into something and tripped. Thump. She rubbed her sore bottom and hissed at the pain.

"Sorry!" she called out just incase she woke someone up.

She froze when footsteps started coming down the hallway towards. A voice called out to her.

"Vhat are you doing?"

"Oh, Mr. Edelstein? What are you doing up?"

Austria felt a vein pulse in his temple and shook his head. "I vhas about to have dinner. Vhill you be joining us?"

Julie felt a smile edging at the corner of her lips and tried to suppress it immediately. Even thought he had asked in an irritated tone, his offer was much appreciated. It was…. nice. She nodded. "Only if you turn the lights on 'cause I can't see a thing."

Roderich sighed. He was tired. He just wanted to have his dinner in peace.

"Yes, of course."

He went a little back down the hallway to a light switch and flicked the lights on. Hungary came walking down the hall with a look of concern; "What's going on, Mr. Auzstria?"

Not soon after Julie came in sight and it was shocking, truthfully. It wasn't just the now creased dress; it was the fact that she looked groggy and her out of control bedhead. She looked at herself in a near by mirror hanging near a painting. She gaped wide-eyed and commenced to laugh.

"I should fix my hair, shouldn't I?"

Before Austria could say anything, Hungary jogged over to Julie. She turned back to Roderich; "I'll take care of it. Can you set the table, Roddy?"

Austria blushed at the nickname. He was a bit skeptical at first but agreed as Elizabeta whisked the adolescent away to get ready for dinner. He went back to the kitchen and took the apple strudel from the oven. After putting three place settings, he commenced to bring out the food. In the process, his mind began to wander. _Scars are nothing new. I have scars and so does Elizabeta, so why does she waste her time worrying about other's scars? First I must discuss the topic of the girl with her, though._ He scoffed and scowled a little._ And I hope that Ludvig took care of America and England. If not, I'll scold all three of those dummkopfs._

His thoughts were cut short as Hungary turned a corner and came out from the famous hallway, pulling the girl beside her. Roderich's eyes slowly widened. The sight was foreign to his eyes. The girl's hair was like curled locks of chocolate brown, bearing resemblance to Shirley Temple's tresses and she was dressed in a European nightgown which was overdone with frills. Her slightly tanned skin clashed with the ivory color of the garment giving the whole image an Arabian feel to it. She coughed and looked away as she felt his gaze bore down on her.

"Hey. Mrs. Hedervary, is this all really necessary? Not that I don't love my hair curled…." Julie trailed off as she began pushing a lock of hair up then watching it bounce back down.

Hungary smiled and playfully squeezed the girl's substantial cheeks. "Yes~ Juri-chan, you look absolutely adorable and lovely."

Julie's eyes widened in shock. _Adorable and…lovely?_ She could feel her cheeks heating up; making her efforts to control is futile.

"R-really?"

Elizabeta saw this and smirked. This girl was just too cute. She was like Romano only with a little bit of Italy's personality sprinkled on top. "Yes~."

"Juri-chan?" Austria inquired, "Vhat's Juri-chan?"

Hungary giggled. "It's my nickname for her. Her real name is Julie Louise." She turned back to Julie; "Now please, take a seat between Mr. Edelstein and me."

The child didn't argue and sat at the table. But, there was something refined about it. Her back was strait, her hands neatly place in front of her on the table and right away she took her napkin and placed it in her lap. Both Austria and Hungary saw this and gave each other a look. Hungary began to serve the two, starting with Julie. She began to pour some Goulash into the girl's soup bowl until Julie gave a polite little 'Thank you'. Elizabeta did the same to Roderich's soup until he too said 'Thank you'. Julie started to eat right after Austria, and European style at that. She took her soupspoon and scooped away from her instead to her as so many people mistakenly did. Not leaning over her plate, she brought the spoon to her lips and quietly sipped her soup without spilling a drop. If you didn't know any of them you would have mistaken the three for a rich European family in New York.

Hungary looked at Austria and nodded. "Juri-chan, how did you learn to eat like that?"

The girl looked up from her soup. "Oh, my mom is French; so is the rest is my mother's family. My grandma was born in 1916, so she's very strict on manners as you can see. So I was taught how to have dinner table and bedside manners since I was seven."

Austria looked bewildered. "French? So you're related to zhat perverted dummkopf?"

Julie gave a hurt appearance. "Hey! I might not know German, but I certainly know what 'dummkopf' means. He's really not that bad, seriously. I love my mother's country. I'm very proud to be the daughter of a French mother."

"You have a serious pride for being 'French', huh? But isn't France…annoying?" Elizabeta said while leaning in for a spoonful of Goulash.

Julie shook her head lightly and Roderich could see that her mind was staring to wander. "No, no…it's…sweet. All sweet memories of the countryside, my grandmother's simple cottage house with her little garden full of snails I use to love to play with, simple French cooking and nice little trips to the boulangerie…"

Her eyes were starting to glaze over but she quickly regained consciousness of herself. "Oh, sorry. I tend to babble about France." She quickly apologized.

The Austrian felt as thought betrayed by his own ears. No one – and he meant no one, ever talked about France in that way; quite the opposite most of the time. And what's even surprising…she made it sound sweet but – sad. The way she talked about the French countryside was heart melting and…distant. Resembling as thought she will never see again. He took a deep breath; "No, no. It's quite all right. But, please do finish your schoup. It's Mrs. Herdervery's specialty."

Hungary raised a brow at the formal name-calling.

Dinner went by without a thought, and when it came time for dessert, the girl was already falling asleep. But when she saw the apple strudel, her eyes snapped open.

"Is that-" she started but Hungary decided to finish the sentence for her; "-apple strudel? Why, yes. And this is Mr. Edelstein specialty." She snickered at Austria for blushing.

Julie was glowing; her face all lit up like an American Christmas tree. "May I have some, please?"

This only made Austria's blush become more prominent but he coughed it away, much to Elizabeta's dismay. "Yes, but after you must go to bed. V'e vhill have things to do and things to discuss tomorrow."

The girl squealed in delight and took one of the pastries. After she wolfed it down and complemented 'Mr. Edelstein' on how skilled he was, she bid them goodbye and went off to brush her teeth.

Roderich sighed. "It's like ve're raising Italien all over again."

Hungary patted her spouses back. "Don't worry, it will be fun."

Austria started and then got up. "Can you clean this? I shall go make sure the child is in bed." Elizabeta nodded and turned to clean the dinning room. He took off in a different direction and soon came the girl's temporary room. He pushed the door open, but she wasn't there. That's when he heard singing coming from the bathroom.

"_**I can't say what's next.**_  
_**And I got nothin' up my sleeve.**_  
_**But I don't lose my head, cause it ain't really up to me.**_  
_**And I'm doing just fine. I'm always landing on my feet.**_  
_**In the nic of time and by the skin of my teeth.**_  
_**I ain't gonna stress, cause the worst ain't happened yet.**_  
_**Somethings watching over me, like Sweet Serendipity. Sweet Serendipity~**_"

He started to push the door open when he saw her washing her face.

"_**I don't ask for a lot.**_  
_**No nothing more than I need,**_  
_**because I love what I got.**_  
_**Don't need to play the lottery.**_  
_**I just want to be strong,**_  
_**at the end of the road.**_  
_**I don't want to hold on.**_  
_**I want the strength to let go-**_"

She jumped at the sight of him. Clutching the area of her chest where her heart should be, she wheezed out; "Oh god, I didn't know you were there. 'Scared me."

Austria scoffed; "This is my house, of course I'm here."

"Yah, I know. My mom says the same thing to me. She tells me I should be a little less paranoid."

Roderich nodded. "She has a point. Now come, you must go to bed. Tomorrow shall be a long day."

Julie closed off the sink and dried her face, then closed the lights and followed the Austrian. She snuggled up into the somewhat comfy bed and started to dose off as she had been doing earlier. He closed the lights of the room and gave a brief 'Sleep well'. And as she began to dream about whatever fourteen year old American girls dream about, he shook his head and wondered to himself; _Tomorrow _will_ be a _long _day._

* * *

**Translations;**

[Gulasch] German for Goulash

[Nien] No

[Almeásrétes] Apple Strudel

[ein Messer] A knife

[Ausztria] Hungarian for Austria

[Boulangerie] Bakery

[Dummkopf] Stupid head

[Italien] German for Italy

**The song the girl was singing was 'Sweet Serendipity'. Yeah! Almost no translations!**

**Please Review! I need some love in the form of writing. Even if you speak another language. Actually, it would be cooler like that. Or France shall visit you in the middle of the night. Thanks to all my reviewers so far!**


	11. Gone Missing

**A/N; **Damn. It's been almost a month. I think. That's what happens to your sense of time when you studying constantly. Sorry for not posting. I finally got some time to edit the chapter. It's probably crappy. But the school year is almost over and when I finish my four finals and my two regents, I'll have chapter 12 posted and the 13th on the way. Don't worry and please enjoy. Lots of translations at the bottom.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. It's God's cruel joke on my life.

* * *

After the unusual meeting with Germany and Italy, Kiku returned home to start planning. It was clear that the girl, Ludwig had been informed about, was the exact girl he had been ordered to rescue. Before he had left, Feliciano caught him at the doorway and explained that Austria currently had the girl in his possession, so there was only one way to go about this – steal the child from the Austrian. He knew exactly where the European's place was; Japan often hung out with Hungary during these unproductive meetings.

He woke up early for his mission the next day; it seemed 'once a ninja, always a ninja'. Kiku decided to dress normally in order not to attract any attention. A pair of washed out skinny jeans, white tennis shoes and plain white and blue striped, long-sleeve t-shirt later, he was out the door, heading for Austria's loft.

As his light green scarf fluttered erratically in the frosty, post winter breeze, he thought about how he'd go about getting the child. Originally, he was just going to abduct her, but Hungary was almost as skilled as he in sensing a disturbance, so he just decided to go in while they slept. Good thing he woke up early.

_** MWH**_

Five o' clock morning sunlight slowly streamed into Julie's temporary room through the crack under the door, lighting the space, but not by that much. It gave the wall a glow, kind of like when the sun is about to rise but can't be seen because the curtains are drawn.

She took a deep breath and rolled over to snuggle back into the messy sheets. Julie always slept relatively well, but if she went to bed early, she'd wake up early. Of course, normally, she'd just be lazy and try to sleep more although her body would be against it. But something today was giving her butterflies in her stomach, as though she was just waiting for a certain, irritated Austrian to burst through the door and tell her to 'get up this instant'. When no such thing happened, she sighed and decided she might as well get up. _With this feeling in my stomach, there's no way I'll be able to sleep. _She rolled off the bed and fell on the floor and after a few lazy seconds, she proceeded to push herself up off the ground. Stumbling to the closet, she gripped her head due to poor circulation. The light-headedness went away though, and she stood back up to get dressed.

The room was quite small, but it was cozy. There was carpeting and the bed was one of those beds for little ten year olds. But it didn't matter anyway; she already curled up in her sleep. Although - she did have a bad habit of kicking or slapping anything near her while she slept. What surprised her was the closet. It looked small but in reality it was quite big. Julie started looking through the many hangers for something comfortable to wear. Her brows furrowed. There was nothing but dresses. _Isn't there anything that doesn't have frills at the end?_

Behind the hangers she found a single shelf with clothes folded on it. There was a bit of dust coating the garments, but nothing that would stop her from seeing what they were. Blowing the dust away, she sneezed a few times and took the items off the shelf. Julie held them up and they slowly unfolded to reveal a pair of pants. The pair was dark navy blue with a wide top hem, fastened by three ivory buttons. She squealed at the sight of the vintage pants and placed them neatly on her bed to see the next apparel. What came next were a few pairs of stockings, an old silk shirt – white of course, a corset, and a sash, along with some socks. Julie looked a the corset; "Why would someone need this? This thing can kill you. Or make your insides burst out…." She shrugged and tossed it back onto the bed.

Other than the closet and the bed that was now littered with dusty clothing, the only other thing in the room was a small dresser that had a lamp on it. It stood next to the light blue curtains that were embroidered with little depictions of blue violets. Julie ran over to it and began pulling drawers open like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow. All she found in the first drawer was what she liked to call 'grammy pants', but the next two drawers were a bit more promising. The second drawer had socks like Hungary had given her the day before while the last drawer contained shorts made of soft fabrics like rayon and cotton.

The brunette looked at all her choices and decided to replicate an outfit that she had in her own closet and adored to death. She sighed and realized that her underwear was of course in need of change – but not in that way! The girl shed them and her wrinkled nightgown, leaving her in the nude. After a little rummaging, a suitable pair of 'undies' was found and Julie changed into the pink-lemonade colored garment. Then came a pair of cream tinted stockings and Prussian blue cotton pair of shorts. Taking the dress shirt, she tucked it into her shorts that she buttoned up after. At last, a pair of fresh, frilly socks came on and she jumped up from the bed feeling new.

She giggled at the way it looked cute in the reflection of the window. Once she cleaned up the room, she left her confinements and explored the Austrian's loft. There wasn't much left to see - same old, same old. The entry simply contained an end table and a potted palm. The living room had modern-looking couches done in soft, off-white colored suede with a fireplace under a small plasma screen T.V. There was a glass coffee table with those feet on the bottom that looked like a lion's claws holding on to an orb on top of a Persian rug. She slowly strolled past the high-tech kitchen with its marble countertops and stainless steel appliances that sat next to hanging bowls of fruits and set of knives. Julie peeked into the piano room and quickly closed the doors. There was nothing there anyway: just a single ebony piano in a nicely furnished space. What she hadn't seen was the balcony; it had such a wide view that there were five glass doors and she couldn't stop gaping. She opened one but hastily closed it when the cold February air hit her face.

Farther down was a double door, which looked like a study inside. Next to it was a good-sized folding door. She slowly opened the door and saw the sweetest thing since she got there. In a ridiculously oversized canopy bed, Austria was asleep – one arm around Hungary who was pulled close to him and snuggling to his chest. Julie gave a little, inaudible 'aww' and shut the door. On the other side of the hallway was a big bathroom that connected into the hallway where her bathroom was.

While she was looking through the pantry, a small knock came from the front door and she wondered who would be here this early in the morning. The girl ran to the door and opened it to find a casually dressed Japanese man.

_** NXT**_

Japan reached the building where the loft resided in. The culture shock was dull. Everything was modern from the lobby to the elevator. He had already seen this in several of America's and Canada's apartments. He took the elevator to the 9th floor and slowly walked down the extensive hallway to Austria's door.

Kiku found loft 67 and quietly contemplated whether he should ring the bell or not. In the end he decided to lightly knock on the door. A few minutes later he heard a pair of feet running up to the door and the doorway opened up. The girl who stood in front of him matched everyone's description so far; brunette hair – slightly curled on the bottom with the famous blonde streak that everyone seemed to remember. She had a round face – but not fat – with large cheeks and pleated eyebrows that sat right above wide, brown eyes. The funny thing was that he had to look up to face her since she was just a bit taller than him. She looked surprised.

"Japan?" she almost whispered.

The Asian bowed. "こんにちは、ジュリーさん。Igirisu-san toruld me furind you and buuring you back to him."

A smile slowly spread itself onto Julie's face. "England knew where I was staying! Are we going to see him?"

She started to lightly jump from foot to foot as if she was doing jumping jacks. Japan looked a bit uncomfortable but pushed it away and tried to put a natural smile on. "はい。 Nao, sharlu we go?"

That's where the girl gave a look of distress. She looked around as though something was coming for her. "Yes, but I should leave a note. I don't want Mr. Edelstein to think I ran away."

Julie ran back inside, got a pen and paper, and started to write a note out in fast cursive. Then she ran to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic bag. Kiku looked at her inquisitively. She ran through a pair of doors and disappeared but came back just a quickly with the bag now filled and tied. Hastily stuffed her feet into a pair of black boots that came up to her ankles with a rim of faux fur, Julie looked up at him and gave a little jump.

"Okay. I'm ready to go."

Japan nodded his head. "Whart abrout a coat?"

Julie looked around and then said; "I don't really have one. I think I left it with France and the others when Mr. Edelstein found me."

He frowned slightly and then thought of something. Kiku took off his scarf and wrapped around the girl's neck. She gave him a worried look. "Won't you be cold?"

He shook his head. "いや、そうでもない。"

She tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

Japan didn't answer but instead started to walk away down toward the elevator and motioned for her to follow. She quickly closed the door and scuttled to catch up to him. The ends of the scarf followed her as she ran and when she finally got to the elevator where he was standing she was already out of breath. The two stepped into the elevator and said nothing but enjoyed each other's company and the rare silence. He watched her from the corner of his eyes as they got out. She ran up to the entrance and opened the doors only to be greeted by the cold air.

"Oh. Yah." She said with an unimpressed look to no one in particular.

Kiku smiled weakly. "It is verry cold in Nuew Yourk during Feburary, ね？"

She smiled back at him. "Unfortunately."

They decided to brave the elements and went out into the chilling New England air. Julie shook a little bit but when Japan asked her if she was cold, she simply replied; 'I'm alright.' He didn't question it any further and the two began walking side by side. There was no conversation during the walk but it was alright. Kiku started to relax when he caught her staring at him. She quickly noticed and turned her head away.

"Whatsu wrong?" he questioned.

She shook her head 'no' vigorously. "Nothing."

He started at her wide-eyed but went back to thinking. She mumbled something that caught his attention but he didn't quite understand what she said.

"すみません。 Carn you repeatu that?"

Again she said; 'It's nothing', and they continued their walk in an awkward silence.

_** LTR**_

Along this whole trip, Julie learned two things – one; it gets god damn cold in New York. Two; walking in this stupid weather can be considered a form of cruel and unusual punishment. It was 9 am when she left, which meant it was probably about 11 now. Japan tapped her on her shoulder and pointed to Firstständerhaus styledhouse just two blocks away from where they were. They crossed – jaywalked – across the street and ran up to the front porch of the house just to get inside and warm themselves. Japan rung the doorbell, which kind of sounded like drums and someone yelling; 'Italien! Holen Sie sich zurück! Ich beantworte die Tür!' As they waited, Julie looked up at Kiku.

"This isn't where England's staying, you know." she said.

He nodded. "はい。私は知っている。"

She didn't understand everything he said, only the 'yes'. But, still. He hadn't told whose house this was. "So whose house is th-" Just as she asked, the front door flung open to reveal an ecstatic Italian.

_** MWH**_

He slowly woke up to the sound of Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A Major. Pushing the satin sheets back without disturbing Hungary, Austria swung his legs over the side of the bed and quietly got out of the bed. He turned off the alarm clock, then walked over to the French styled windows to part the curtains - just enough to allow sunlight to pass.

It was a nice morning for such awful weather and today he had a lot of things to get to. First he would have to discuss with Germany what to do with the girl. Wipe her memories? They would have to give it some thought. Roderich dressed himself with his usual deep blue suit pants, white dress shirt and jabot. The reason he didn't put his suit jacket was because he thought that if a human girl was staying with him, he should loosen up a bit. Most people would say that it's impossible for him to relax, but then again, they really didn't know him all that well. He went to the bathroom to brush his hair – carefully avoiding Mariazell, then going through the door into the hallway connected by it. Austria knocked on the girl's door twice but there was no answer so he decided to go in. He had to admit, the room was incredibly clean but – there was no girl!

"Vhere did zhat Mädchen go!" he yelled at no one in particular.

On the other of the side of the loft, Hungary woke up to her ex-spouse screaming. She jump out of bed and ran out of the room in her nightgown to find the Austrian pacing the living room. He looked up at her with a face contorted in anger and worry.

"She's gone. She's gone. After all v'e have done für her!"

Hungary waved her hands. "Calm down. I'm sure there must be a logical explanation."

Austria started at her appalled. "Logical explanation! Vhat could possibly explain zhis!"

Elizabeta caught sight of a little paper on the end table in the entry area. She walked over to it and picked it up. Relieved she sighed; "See? Look, she left a note. She probably just went to the lobby to explore or walk in the garden out back."

Hungary handed him the paper. The two skimmed over the note together.

_Dear Mr. Edelstein and Mrs. Hedervary,_

_It was nice staying with you guys, but I really want to see England. Japan came over and now we're going to see England and America. Maybe I'll see you at a Conference if England allows me. I'll ask him. Thank you for all you guys have done for me!_

_- Julie L_

_Ps: Austria's apple strudel is really~ good._

The two stared at the letter. Hungary put a hand over her mouth. Austria shook his head in disbelief.

"Gott, nein. Nein."

* * *

**Translations;**

[こんにちは、ジュリーさん。] Good Afternoon, Miss Julie.

[はい。] Yes.

[いや、そうでもない。] No, not really.

[...ね?] ...right?

[すみません。] Sorry.

[Firstständerhaus] Ridge post house. A Germanic house that originated during the 15th century in the Baden area of Germany. **A/N; You can look it up in Wiki. (Which I don't own. Never know what they can sue you for.)**

[はい。私は知っている。] Yes. I know.

[Mädchen] Girl

[Gott, nein. Nein.] God, no. No.

**Oooh. Drama. There's not as many translations as I thought there would be. Please review. Reviews make me feel happy. Also, thanks to everyone who put favorite/alert for this story. The poll is still up so vote please! It should be on top of my profile. If not, just leave a comment on who you want paired.**

**Merçi!**


	12. A New Place

**A/N; **I was plagued with writer's block this whole chapter. On another note, for these past four weeks, I've been in a college art class. And today was SO HOT that my oil paints were drying on my palette IN FRONT OF MY EYES. Someone! Russia! France! Save New York! We're DYING in this heat! It's _**110 **_degrees. We live in New York for cold, short summers, not the Sahara Desert. Anyway, enjoy! Sorry for such a late update. Art consumes you alive. Next chapter will be out in a week tops. Translations are at the end.

**Disclaimer:** Well now, if I owned Hetalia, I wouldn't be writing on '**Fan**Fiction', would I? If I owned Tide, I would be like 'What the...'.

* * *

The rest of Germany's evening went as expected. The meeting promptly ended and all three began to get ready to leave. Ludwig had asked if Japan if he wanted to stay for dinner, but Kiku politely declined saying that he had to prepare for tomorrow.

The Eastern Asian took his light green scarf down from the coat rack that sat near the front door and carefully wrapped around the collar of his coat. He then proceeded to slip on his loafers.

Just before Japan's departure, Feliciano caught him at the entrance and told the Japanese man where he assumed the girl would be, despite Ludwig's yells of 'Italien! Schit down!'. Kiku thanked the brunette and explained that he would return with the girl tomorrow in the afternoon. He bowed in respect and went out into the cold, evening air. As the door closed shut, Italy turned around and squealed, hands clapping feverishly.

"Ve, Questo sarà così divertente! Non ho mai incontrato un cittadino comune che sa di noi! Non mi può attendere!"

Ludwig raised a hand to his head and sighed, feeling a vain pulsing in the back of his crown. "Italien, beruhigen Sie sich. If ve're going to have a young mädchen schtaying vith us, I vhant you to behave." the German declared with a stern face.

Italy gave put a serious face on and gave a salute. "Sì capitano!" Feliciano ran past his friend into the kitchen to get started on dinner and put away the lunch they never had. He swiftly pulled out a box of linguini and a pot for it. Setting the top of the stove to a good 5 to 6 on the dial, he began pouring cups of water into the pot. In the other room, Germany was massaging away his stress to no avail. Ludwig concluded that if they were going to have someone staying over, he should probably clean and set up a room, which will most likely help with his anxiety.

Out of the entry, past the foyer and up the stairs. Twenty-three steps later, he reached the landing and turn to the right to come face-to-face with a linen closet. Ludwig grabbed some lime-green bed, turned about and made a left into a long hallway containing only four doors. He opened the door to the first room on the left and sighed at the sight.

"Zhat good fur nothing. Vhen vill he learn to clean his room? Just because he has no vhork to do, does not mean he can just be lazy!" the German complained to himself while shaking his head. He shut the door to the first room and went into the next. Unlike the rest of the German-styled house, it was nearly barren. But, they hadn't had guests in awhile and this wasn't really their permanent house… so it really wasn't unusual that the guestroom was left unused. Still, it was nice - birch flooring under a matching dresser along with a small bed and a chair to accompany it. Ludwig started spreading the sheets out, then pulled out a comforter out from under the bed and shook the dust from it. He placed the comforter down and reached over to the bottom drawer of the dresser to find the duvet cover for the said comforter. After sipping the duvet on and finishing up, Germany went back to the linen closet to get some fresh towels for the bathroom that both rooms shared.

The door to the bathroom had been left open in the hallway and inside was in no better shape than the first room. There were towels strung all over the floor and some of the bottles on the counter were spilling over the edge of the counter. Ludwig stared at the sight, appalled.

"Unglaublich! Warum ich, Gott?" he complained to no one in particular. He gathered the towels, and threw them into the hamper a bit violently all while mumbling threats under his breath. Afterwards, he almost ripped the doors from the cabinet under the sink when getting a sponge to clean up the liquid-caked counter.

When the bathroom was brought up to decency, all new towels and a new bottle of foaming hand soap –just to decorate the area a little, he decided to get as much done as possible before his guest arrived and went into the previous room to make it decent as well.

_** MWH**_

While Germany was upstairs taking care of the rooms, Italy was downstairs working his cooking magic –some thyme here, some red pepper and a handful of flat-leaf parsley to go in this pot. By the end of a busy twenty minutes, there was a steaming pot filled with linguini in clam sauce. Feliciano beamed at the result of his work. Of course, all his dishes came out well, but there was just something about this particular work of cuisine that spoke to him. It was…. special. Maybe it was just the fact that he would be surrounded by many people in a few days, all of whom he would be cooking for. And possibly – they would be cooking with him. He turned his attention to the clock that sat just above the window which looked out onto the tiny spice garden outside.

_21:23_

_Ve, Time really seams to fly fast when there's news among nations._ Italy skipped into the foyer and took a deep breath.

"Ve, Doitsu! Come down for dinner!"

He heard a faint grunt from another part of the house and then steps that gradually got louder. About half a minute later, Germany appeared through the door of the kitchen where Feliciano had returned to, and sat down in a chair. Italy looked over to his companion to find him deep in thought, clearly worrying over something. He decided to question it; "Doitsu?"

The German didn't say anything, much less move.

"Doitsu? Ve, Doitsu, what's wrong?"

Italy walked over to the table and sat down to get a better look at his unresponsive friend. The man's eyes were distant, as if he wasn't really there. Feliciano waved a hand in Ludwig's face. "Ve, Doitsu, why won't you sa-"

Germany's hand shot out, grabbing the other's wrist rather roughly; "Rühr mich nicht an!"

The Italian screamed and reeled back in his seat. He fell to floor, bringing Ludwig with him. After the two recovered from the drop, Italy began to wail. "V-ve! Doitsu is scary! I'm sorry! Please, don't be mad at me!" He knew the German didn't really mean it, but that didn't make it any less frightening. Ludwig sighed._ Groß. I terrified him. Zhat's zhe last thing I need now._

"Entschuldigung, Italien. It's just…"

Feliciano tipped his head to the side. Germany was never, and he meant it when he said it, _never_, out of it. "Just what, Doitsu?"

The blond put a hand to his crown and began to rub his temples in an attempt to relieve his ever-growing stress. "Vhat are v'e going to do vith zhe ghurl? Are v'e keeping her for a day, or for a long vhile?"

Italy stared at his worried friend. That…actually was a…really serious…question… "Don't worry!" Feliciano assured, "I'm sure that she will be nice. And didn't Giappone say that she would stay here until the World Conference, and then come with us to return to Signore America?"

The other gave a slight nod of the head. "Ja. Ja, I guess."

The Italian clapped his hands together, happy that this problem was resolved. "Bene! Ora, now can we eat?"

Ludwig gave a small smile. "Ja."

_** NXT**_

The following day was spent in preparation, which was noticeably overshadowed by a growing anxiety. The guest room was dusted and all ready thanks to Germany. All there was left to do was to put a few things in the bathroom and to fill the closet with three or four outfits.

Since Italy was obviously the god of fashion here, the German decided to take care of the toiletries. A bottle of pear-scented body soap was set on a little shelf, which happened to be tucked away in a corner of shower, against its will – along with a back brush, and one of those fluffy scrubs. On the edge of the sink sat a little plastic cup next to a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. The finishing touch was the few towels near the toilet.

In the next room over, Feliciano was having fun 'playing' fashion designer. The closet was now filled with two pleated skirts – one black, one plaid – a few dress shirts, two t-shirts and a knitted sweater. The brunette stuffed some panties and sock into a drawer with three polka-dotted panty hose.

Satisfied with his work, the Italian tidied the area and ran into the bathroom.

"Doistu~! I'm done putting clothes in the closet!"

Germany turned to find his friend poking out from behind the doorframe. "Gut. I'm also done here."

The other titled his head in thought; "Ne~ Doistu, what time is it?"

Ludwig pulled back the cuff to his shirt and took a peak at his wristwatch.

_15:18_

"It's 15:18. Japan should be coming now vith zhe gurl."

Italy clapped his hands in delight; "Meraviglioso! I'm sure that she will adore-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence as the doorbell downstairs rung and then rung again. The Italian flew out of the guest bedroom and down the stairs, finally skidding to a stop at the entrance with Germany following him. The two could other voices from behind the door, one that was foreign to gheir ears.

No patience left, Feliciano flung the door open.

"So whose house is th-"!

_** DRN**_

The first thing Julie saw was a pair of two honey-brown eyes staring back at her own chocolate-brown eyes.

"Ciao bella!"

An Italian man stood in the doorway. His accent rolled off his tounge and the caramel-colored hair swished a bit from the force of almost ripping the door from its hinges. He was dressed in simple blue slacks and a white dress-shirt while the blond man behind him wore black slacks and a gray dress-shirt.

Japan stepped infront of the girl and bowed to his friends; "こんにちは、イタリア、 ドイツ。" Italy hugged the Japanese man much to the others distress. Germany could already feel the headache coming back. "Italien! Put Japan down and behave yourself!"

Feliciano pouted. "Ve, But Doistu!"

"Nein!" the blond shouted, starting to get fed up. "You're making a bad example infront of zhe mädchen!"

The girl poked out from behind Japan, who was currently 'dying' in Italy's arms. "Nah, it's okay. Personally, sometimes I'm more crazy than that."

Italy looked over at the girl and squeeled. He let go of Kiku and ran up to the child. Feliciano gave her two pecks; one on either cheek. She didn't sputter, like most would have, but instead returned the kisses in the same way he had given them. Germany looked at her with his jaw now hanging lose. She shrugged; "What can I say? I was raised by French people."

The Italian took her wrist and pulled into the house. He waited for her to take off her boots and proceed to pull her again. The two took seats on the couch in the foyer and the overjoyed country began to ask her questions. "Ve, What's your name?"

The girl stared at him and then started to laugh. But, Italy didn't get what was so funny. He didn't make a joke. "What's funny? Was it something I said? Ve..."

She tried to recollect herself and spoke in between laughs; "I can't tell you how many times people have asked me that question in the past two days. It's nice, being surrounded by people. Some people hate human company, some aren't too fond of it and some just don't care. But, really I couldn't be more grateful." She said trailing off.

Italy sat there dumbfounded. How many people had she seen today and yesterday? "Ve…. So, what's your name?"

The girl snapped out of her distant thoughts; "Oh! Sorry! I'm Julie, Julie Louise."

"Julie Louise. Che bel nome!" he said, hands clasped together. Julie gave him a blank look. "What does that mean in Italian?"

"It's means 'What a pretty name'!" This made the child blush a red that could rival one of Spain's tomatoes.

"M-merçi." She managed to sputter out. At this time Germany and Japan were also in the foyer with the other two. The conversation had started to interest Kiku and much out of his character, he decided to ask a few questions of his own. "ジュリーさん、"

Julie waved her hand; "You guys can just call me Julie, or Juje. Whatever tickles your peach." The other three gave her a look but quickly brushed it off. The Asian began again. "ジュリーちゃん、you shaid 'meerushi'. Trhat izu furenchu, ne?"

"Yuppers. My parents are French but I'm born in America. So, it goes without saying I can speak French. I can speak other things, but you know..."

No, they didn't know, yet they decided not to question it. Italy jumped up from the couch causing Julie to fall back on the couch. Feliciano didn't know what to do. He started to bawl, but stopped when he heard someone laughing. The girl was giggling, playing with her legs by hanging on to her ankles and moving her feet around. She looked up; "Oh! Sorry, you were going to say something?"

Italy nodded his head; "Sì. Would you like some pasta?"

"Italien! Nein!"

Julie sat up with a bit of a struggle. She stopped playing with her feet, but her hands didn't leave her ankles. "Pasta? What kind?" she inquired. Italy loved all types of pasta, so it didn't matter to him. "Ve, Fettuccine."

Julie tilted her head; "Fettuccine? What's that?"

The question almost gave Feliciano a heart attack. "Ve! Don't worry! You'll like it!" That was his last comment before dashing off to the kitchen to prepare dinner. It _was_ 16:11. Germany stood up with a 'humpf' and placed his hand on the girl's head. "Ja, I'll show you to your room." The two went upstairs to her designated room. Ludwig explained to her of what they next few days would consist of and left to her own devices.

She decided to change into a pair of PJ's that entailed a pair of puffy, white shorts that were drawn closed by a yellow silk string and a frilly tank-top which were of the same style. Her previous clothes that lay on the bed in an unruly pile went to the hamper found in a corner of her guest bathroom. Italy gave a call for everyone to come to the dinner table and soon Julie found herself downstairs.

A head poked out from behind the arch that let into the kitchen. "Ve! Julie! Sembri carino!"

Julie stumbled through a 'thank you' with her small, rusty Italian vocabulary; "G-grazie? Is-is that how you say it?"

Feliciano's eyes light up with joy from the small word. "Sì! Sì, it is!"

Germany's head peered out from behind the Italian's. "Julie. Come dinner is ready."

The girl stood up strait with her hands at her sides and saluted the blond man. "Ja!" She ran pass the two into the kitchen. Ludwig didn't budge, surprised by what the other had said. He didn't know wether to be pleased or a bit insulted. He decided to leave it alone.

In the kitchen, the table was set. A big bowl of pasta sat in the center with three other bowls surrounding it accompanied by three glasses, three sets of utensils and a bottle of white wine. Under all of the place settings were white napkins. Julie looked at the table, then to Italy, then to the table and back to Italy. "Um, there's only three place settings."

"Sì." Feliciano mindlessly answer while tossing a salad.

She looked at him with slight frown; "Isn't Japan staying with us for dinner?" Italy stopped tossing the salad and turned around. "No, mi spiace."

Out of the kitchen, past the foyer and into the entry area, she saw Kiku putting on his scarf. "You're not staying? Even just for dinner?" He shook his head; "いいえ、私はお詫び申し上げます 。I have wurok to do."

At the last minute when the Asian was just about to leave, Julie wrapped her hands around his wrist. Shocked, he turned around only to come face to face with a pleading look. "When this whole thing gets settled, will you watch Gundam with me?" she asked. Japan could only stare, completely unused to the physical contact, no matter how much Italy hugged him. His shock slowly became a small, warm smile.

"確かに。" He looked up to face the other two he called good friends who were now in the entry area with Kiku and Julie. "I wirul be back in five days to pick you guruys up for the meeting." Japan left with 'Ciao's and 'Gute Nacht' in the midnight background. The remaining three went back to the aforementioned kitchen to start on the fettuccine.

_** SMW **_

"Hey Artie! 'Night!" America called out from across the hallway. The Brit was currently laying his designated room in America's house. It was done the way he had wanted it, with a four-post bed, old chests and doilies. Yes, doilies, like your grandmother has. England furrowed his massive brows in annoyance.

"Use proper vocabulary, you git! Good night!"

He heard that obnoxious laugh and then a 'click'. Alfred must of turned off his light. Arthur closed the book he wasn't really reading; the page hadn't turned in half an hour. The book was set on the night table, which stood next to the left side of the bed, and the lamp was turned off.

The blond snuggled into the comforter but he couldn't fall asleep. It had been nearly two days since Japan had contacted him. He just hoped that the girl was alright and that she hadn't fallen into the hands of any perverted/evil countries. Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "God, please keep her safe. I really don't need to hear that Russia has made her 'become one'."

Soon the darkness enveloped his vision and he fell into a deep sleep.

_** MWH**_

Dinner was finished, dishes had been washed and now they were getting ready for bed.

After washing her face and teeth, Julie fell into the puffy, dark blue, Tide smelling sheets. She breathed in deeply the scent and snuggled up in them like a giddy wife on her wedding night. She then actually got within the sheets and turned off her light. Germany appeared in the doorway and said 'Gute Nacht' before leaving to go to sleep himself. The girl smiled as her eyelids drooped from the fatigue. It had been a few days since she had sleep with such ease.

* * *

**Translations ; There's alot of them.**

[Italien!] Italy!

[Questo sarà così divertente! Non ho mai incontrato un cittadino comune che sa di noi! Non mi può attendere!] This will be so much fun! I've never met an ordinary citizen who knows of us! I can not wait!

[Italien, beruhigen Sie sich.] Italy, calm down.

[Mädchen] Girl

[Sì capitano!] Yes captain!

[Unglaublich! Warum ich, Gott?] Unbelievable! Why me, God?

[Doitsu] Germany **(...really?)**

[Rühr mich nicht an!] Don't touch me!

[Groß.] Great.

[Entschuldigung, Italien.] Sorry, Italy.

[Giappone] Japan

[Signore America] Mr. America **(I give up.)**

[Ja.] Yes.

[Bene! Ora,] Good! Now,

[Gut,] Good,

[Meraviglioso!] Wonderful!

[Ciao bella!] Hello beautiful!

[こんにちは、イタリア、 ドイツ。] Good Afternoon Italy, Germany.

[Nein!] No! **(Like I said, I gave up.)**

[Merçi.] Thank you.

[ジュリーさん] Miss Julie

[ジュリーちゃん] Julie-chan

[Mi spiace.] (I'm) Sorry.

[いいえ、私はお詫び申し上げます。] No, I apologize.

[確かに。] Sure.

[Gute Nacht.] Good Night.

**I cannot tell you how much a pain-in-the-arse were these translations, especially when you're typing (and copying & pasting) on a phone. Thank you to everyone who has recently**_favorite-ed_**, **_alert-ed_** and **_comment-ed_** on my story.  
****Aussi, un gros merçi pour les français qui ont lu mon histoire.  
내 이야기를 읽은 한국 사람을 감사드립니다. Sorry if it's wrong or sounds weird. I used Google Translator. Which I do not own.**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! OR ALL THE COOKS SHALL BECOME BRITISH! No offense England, I love you guys.**


	13. Night & Day

**A/N; **I have only one piece of advise for my readers; Never, ever, ever spill milk on your MacBookPro. Never. Because then your laptop will want to act like a bitch. So, I'm typing this on my evil phone until I go to BestBuy **(A extremely well known American chain store where the best, top notch technology is like, 100 - 200 dollars less.) **to get it fixed. Anyway, enjoy the crappy filler chapter. But it does have important stuff in it.

**Disclaimer: **I'd kill a cheeseburger to own Hetalia.

* * *

_Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak._

"Hmm…" Julie rolled over in her sheets. The annoying creaking sound just wouldn't go away. A light in the next room went on and she groaned. God, whoever was awake, was going to get the end of her foot up their arse. She grabbed a handful of bedding and attempted to block out the light by hiding deeper within the mattress.

_Click._

_Ugh, finally._ The light went out and soon enough, allowing her to fall back asleep.

_**SMT**_

His head was pounding. After they had lost the girl to the prissy Austrian, it was decided that they'd go to a bar to get girls. You know, just to have some 'fun'.

"À plus tard, mon ami." Francis said as Prussia slammed the car door close. The car spent off with a tired Frenchman driving and a very drunk Spaniard in the backseat. Gilbert just stood there, trying to level his head from all the beer. He walked up the stoop of the house, not giving a shit about all the noise he was making.

Everything inside was covered in the pitch-black night, but that didn't mean he couldn't see where he was going. All those years of experience in the military gave him an edge when it came to these things. Do you know how many wars take place at midnight as opposed to broad daylight?

The goddamn stares couldn't stop creaking thought. _Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak. _He finally made to his room. Something in the back of his mind noticed how clean the room was when he turned on the light, but it stayed buried and ignored. There was a sound from the next room over, but he disregarded it as well. '_Lud must have Japan or Italy over_'he thought groggily.

The silverette flopped onto his worn-down bed and slapped the lights off. Again there was a ruffle from the room over. His mind didn't care and drifted off into a deep abyss, unprepared of what was to come next.

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

A bit later, Gilbert was woken by the sounds of sheets moving, and two people arguing his harsh whispers. Ignoring didn't help as the sounds got louder and finally decided to give his bruder's guests a piece of his mind.

He rolled out of his warm sheets and stood up lazily. As he was about to jerk the door open, his eye caught something. One; the door was already open, and two; what looked like the girl he and his friends had kidnapped trying to fend off…Feli?

_**-MWH-**_

When she felt something warm slip into bed, she really didn't mind and instead, clung to it. When that something started to pet her hair, she began to snuggle up to it. But when it started to wrap around her waist and edge to the rim of her panties, she knew something was happening.

Julie's eyes snapped open, only to be assaulted by darkness. Her cornea's slowly adjusted and a smiling Italy came into her vision.

"Italy?" she whispered, "Italy, what are you doing here?"

The brunette got confused. "Ve, How'a did you know I'm'a Italia?"

The girl shrugged. "It's hard not to figure out." She sighed; "Anyway, that's not the problem. What are you doing here?"

Feliciano's face formed a small smile within the dark. "I wanted to sleep next to you because I had a nightmare. Ve..."

Julie blinked and thought to herself. "Isn't that what children do?"

"Ve, But I'm scared…" he said while slinking his hand down to the side of her PJ shorts. She gasped and shivered. She didn't like being touched like this; it was too far past her comfort zone.

"Stop it!" she hissed and tried to shove his hand out of her shorts. Surprisingly, he was too strong for her and wrapped his other hand around her backside, pulling her up onto his chest.

"Come on man! Quit it! I'm not a teddy bear!" hissing a bit more louder than intended.

"I'm still scared, ve!" the Italian said while pulling her head to his. Every inch their faces go closer, the more her face heated up. Just as their noses were touching, she noticed he had fallen asleep and smiled in relief. The man was sweet but God, was he touchy. Julie lowered her head onto the crook of his neck and fell asleep not soon after.

_** NXT**_

Her eyes cracked open slowly, trying to avoid the strong morning sun. Soft, chestnut hair brushed across her cheek, making her look to the left. Italy's face had a small smile and by the looks of it, he was still sleeping. The smile made her remember last night's fiasco but she brushed it off. After all, he was just scared… right? Julie shook her head and quietly got off the Italian man. Pulling the sheets with her, it was revealed that the country personification still had his underwear on, which relieved her. Had he had no pants, she wouldn't know what to do. It probably would have scared her and pull her into a fit of frenzy.

She drew the curtains shut, but they happened to be sheer, so it only did so much. Yawning, she stumbled past the foot of the bed and into the small bathroom that accompanied the room she was staying in. Julie lazily slapped the lights on and yawned once more. Her hand groped around for the nearest towel and ran it under some hot water. She sluggishly wiped her face with the sopping wet cloth, unaware of who was watching her. Squeezing the water out of hand towel, she turned to place it on the towel rack. Instead, it dropped to floor as she raised a finger accusingly in shock. The words failed to come out properly as her brain processed the situation.

"…I-it's you! W-what are you doing here!" she managed to croak out.

_** SMT**_

"Hmmmggffhh. Glegurghm."

Gilbert rolled over and stared at the celling with murderous intent. He did this for a few minutes before giving the same stare to the alarm clock on his left.

_8:58_

'_Was zum Teufel!_' was the first thought that gained the courtesy of passing through his conscious. "Verdammt." He got up and decided that since was up, he might as well take a shower and go downstairs for an awesome breakfast. The Prussian pushed himself out of bed and walked into the bathroom only to find the lights were on.

What he found was a girl, with quite a case of bed head, clean her face with an over-watered face cloth. She squeezed the water out of the poor towel like she trying to kill it and turned to place it back in it's spot but dropped it when she saw him. A shaky hand rose and pointed at him; "…I-it's you! W-what are you doing here!" she squeaked. It looked like someone had scared her.

Prussia's eyes widened when he realized who she was. Running up to her, he began to straighten out her hair. She gripped his wristed and tried to rip him from herself, to no avail. When her hair seemed presentable, he took a step back. Yup, she was the one with the single blonde streak.

"Gott! Itz you! Zhe Mädchen! Vhy are youh in mein bruder's house!"

She looked back at him with the same expression; "Japan brought me here! I don't know!" Julie tried to suppress her steadily growing migraine with her hands. "Look, I can live with almost anyone peacefully, but lets put up some boundaries. _Do not_ mess with my hair. I don't like it when guys mess with my hair."

The albino smirked. This little piece of information could come in handy later. "Yah, well." She said pulling him out of his thoughts. The girl turned back around and started to look through the medicine cabinet. Gilbert raised a brow; "Vhat arh you loohking fohr?"

"A comb. Or a brush. You got one?" Julie nonchalantly asked while steering clear of the foot ointment in the cabinet. The other pushed her aside and closed the compartment only to open another one. In the space underneath the sink sat more shelves stacked with hair care products, brushes, combs, bath soaps and many more little things. He grabbed a brush that looked like it was made with boar's hair. The German handed it to her.

"Thanks." she mumbled. While she was brushing her hair, he started to strip. The brunette looked over to him. "Taking a shower?"

"Ja."

She put the brush back where it came from. "Well, I'm out." Julie stated trying to hide her slight blush.

Now clad in only his underwear he turned; "Aren't goinh to do somzing vhit yoh hair or put on mahk-up or do somzing girlhy?" The child shook her head 'no'.

"I'm not kind of girl." With that she turned and walked into her room to get dressed for the day. Gilbert stared at the door for a few more seconds before shrugging. He peeled his last piece of clothing off and jumped into the shower.

_** NXT**_

Julie stared intently at the contents of the closet. Being an artist, she liked to paint the world with her own colors, not others and it showed in the way she dressed. She pulled out a black pleated skirt and a grey t-shirt. Her head slowly turned with wide eyes to see if the Italian was still in her bed, and thankfully he wasn't. Just then she remembered that her bra was in the hamper and cursed.

"Merde." She hissed under her breath. The girl hoped to God that there was a bra in the drawers that sat in the closet. She pulled out a pair of fresh white panties. Julie eyed them and sighed. "Wow, taking panties from near strangers…this isn't weird at all." She mused to herself. And lucky her, she found a white bra to go with it. It was a bit tight around the back, but she'd make it do. The girl jumped into a pair of camouflage green polka-dotted tights and slipped the skirt on. After a little of ruffling and tidying, she left to go downstairs.

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

"Hey. What goes on?" Julie announced as soon as she jumped off the last of the steps. The two European nations looked up from what they were doing. Feliciano was sketching and Ludwig was signing some papers, which were probably for the meeting she had heard Japan taking about last night. The Italian jumped from his spot on the couch to give her a 'good morning' hug. She flinched but slowly relaxed into it and returned the hug.

"Ve! Buongiorno, Julie!"

She smiled brightly; "Bounjour à vous aussi." She slipped from the brunette's grasp, only to go up Ludwig and kiss him on both cheeks. He tried to swat her away.

"Bonjour Ludwig," she sat down next to him. "Wie geht es Ihnen heute?" the girl spoke in poor, broken German. Germany took of his reading glasses in shock. "Ich fühle mich gut. Youh noh Deutsch?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Eh. So-so. One of my friends knows German due to her fathers business, so she taught me a bit." Julie turned to him and folded her legs onto the couch. "You know," she furrowed her brows, "when you know French and it's accents, it makes it all the more harder to conquer East European accents like Russian, German and Polish. But that's just my point of view."

The two sat in silence that was then interrupted by the sound of a 've'. Italy took her by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen.

"What'a would you like'a to eat, ve."

She sat down at the kitchen table, propping up her head with the edge of her hand. "Why don't we have a truly Italian breakfast? It's been so long since I've had a proper breakfast with someone, much less like I used to have with ma grand-mère. It'll be fun, oui?"

Feli's heart exploded in happiness after the first sentence. "Sì! Sì, che una buona idea! I'll'a make biscotti!"

"What's 'biscotti'?" Italy turned slowly from his open cabinet with a deadpanned look on his face. On the other side of the kitchenette, Ludwig abandoned the idea of morning food to save his soul from a certain Italian and walked out of the room. Little drops of water sprung forth from the European's eyes causing Julie to jump in surprise. She immediately came up to him and held him by the shoulders to stop the tears. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she cried. "It's just that I didn't know what it was. I really like Italian food, so s'il vous plait, tell me- what's biscotti."

He wiped the water from his cheeks. "Ve, Sì…. Biscotti are Italiani biscuits. It's'a too hard to eat plain, so we dip it in'a caffè." He got up and went to a few different cabinets. Pulling out four plates, and other utensils, he put on the coffee grounder and poured a few cups of beans in.

"Julie, what'a kind of caffè do you like'a, ve?"

By now, she was back at the table, waiting for breakfast. "Hmmm?" The girl looked up. "Oh, um, I'm not a big fan of coffee, but I guess I'll have a cappuccino…"

Feliciano nodded his head. Okay, so un cappuccino and un macchiato. "Doisu, what'a lind of caffè do you want?" he yelled from the kitchen. Germany came into the said room, fingers attempting to plug his ears. "Schrei nicht Italien!" Ludwig barked making the poor Italian cower a bit. "Ve~, mi dispiace. What'a kind of caffè?"

"Caffè con panna." That was fancy Italian talk for 'cappuccino'. But in reality, it was different than the 'global standard' cappuccino. It was the 'Italian' cappuccino. _Bene, it's'a now due cappuccini e un macchiato. _

Maybe after half an hour, all three cups of coffee were made and everyone was now seated at the table, mindlessly dunking their biscotti in their respective coffees. Julie glanced over to Feli who was smiling happily due to a good daydream. Deciding to let him continue dreaming, she looked to Germany and tapped him on shoulder.

"Hey, what we gonna today?" she questioned lazily. Ludwig took a long sip from his cup; "Vhell, I have to workh today, buht Italien doesnh't havh anyzhing to doh for zhe meh'ting. Mahbe you can go somevhere vhith him." he suggested while dipping another biscotti in his near empty mug. The brunette mulled the thought over. _Hmh. Going somewhere with Italy sounds really nice…. _But where would they go? It wasn't like they had _nothing _to do; it was the fact that in Manhattan, it could take you forever to figure out what you wanted to do. There was just _way_ too much to do in just on day. And that's when she got the idea. Why not just do one, cool thing each day until she had to leave?

"Hey Italy…." Julie started.

Feli looked to his left; "Ve…."

"Since Germany has work today, wanna go somewhere?" She propped up her head with her right palm. The other tilted his head just a bit. "Ve, Certo, perchè no? Where do you want'a go?"

Julie smirked; "Do you like chocolate?"

_** MWH**_

Prussia let the water shower on to his near-white hair and drip off the tips as he relaxed under the showerhead. It's not like he had anything else to do. Maybe he'd mess with his bruder, or go see Toni and Franny…but other than that, there was really nothing.

Gilbert turned off the water and stepped out to wrap a towel around his waist. He quickly dried his hair with some fluffing and a small hairdryer. What? Guys can use hairdryers too! France did it all the time, and besides; his hair has to look its most awesome-est.

The sound of feet pounding up the stairs brought him out of the haze. He poked his head out of the door only to see two flashes of brown fly past him. His brows furrowed as multiple 'bump's could be heard from the rooms across and next to his. Prussia walked into the girl's room to find her hastily shoving he feet into two ankle-high boots. She practically jumped into he closet near her, only to pulled out a grey plaid scarf and throw it on.

She looked to him; "Hey, Prussia, wanna go out with us?"

In his head, the albino went '_Yes!_'' but was careful enough to seem like it really matter. "Surh. Baht, vhere areh you goinh?"

"It's a surprise!" she said with a bright smile, the kind that America wore on a daily basis. "..but bring money, lots of it. I'll have to ask Germany for some…I hope he'll be alright with it…"

"Ohkay."

Julie coughed. "Maybe you'd like to put on clothes."

She then ran out of the room to, most probably, Italy's room. He dried off and began to dress. He chose a pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt that said 'No one on the block has a swagger like us'. He slipped his feet into a pair of checkered vans and took a scarf similar to the girl's.

Over in Feliciano's room, a long debate was in progress. The two were pondering over what the Italian should wear and in the end Julie said 'to wear something _creative_'. So that led to Italy wearing a pair of dark-grey slack and a cream-colored dress shirt with a pair of Italian loafers.

The three proceeded downstairs and while Feli and Gilbert waited at the door, the girl asked Germany for money;

"Germany!" she said –a bit loudly– as she skidded into the kitchen. Ludwig looked up from his many papers with a quizzical look on his face.

"…Ja? Vhat is it?"

"Okay, so I've decided where I want to go, so me, Italy and your brother are all going and-"

The German promptly cut her off. "Youh met mein bruder?"

She wave her hand nonchalantly; "Actually, he's like one of the first few people I met when I first came here. But anyway, so…may I have some money? I clean the house in return…"

"Nein." Ludwig went to one of the drawers near the sink and pulled out fifty dollars, "Hereh. Youh don't have to do anyzhinh in return. I likeh to clean zhe house. It relaxhs me."

Julie started at the handful of money that now sat in the palm of her right hand. "Oh…okay…Danke…."

Germany gave an almost faint smile to the small bits of German she tried to incorporate in her speech. He abruptly coughed to cut into the awkward silence. "Ja. Vhell, donh't get inhto trouble."

"Sure thing! Thanks again, Germany!" she gave a small peck to his cheek leaving him to blush to himself.

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

Back at the front door, Italy and Prussia stood waiting for a certain brunette. Gilbert was texting to 'his' birdie when the Italian decided to tap him on the shoulder.

"Ve, Prussia, where do you think'a we're'a going?"

The albino only shrugged. "I don't knowh. All she tolhd me was toh tahke a lot of monehy. So I dihd." He dug through his pocket, pulled out seventy dollars, and waved them near Feliciano's face.

"Ve, Julie said'a that to me to!" he smiled pulling his own wallet out.

Just then the girl came sliding in from the kitchen. Julie jumped, landed, and did jazz hands as though she had just finished a musical number. "So! You guy's ready?" They both nodded and shoved away the money into their trousers. The three went out the door, wrapping their scarfs tightly.

_** SWH**_

"Mr. Ausztria….Maybe we should go home and look again tomorrow." Hungary said tiredly.

Roderich looked over his shoulder only to find the worried and worn-out face of his ex-wife. He sighed and gave in. They went back to their loft to sleep until the next strenuous day.

_Where could she be?_

* * *

**Translations;**

[À plus tard, mon ami.] Later, my friend.

[Bruder] Brother

[_Was zum Teufel!_] What the hell!

[Verdammt] Damn

[Ja.] Yes.

[Merde.] Shit.

[Buongiorno] Good Morning

[Bonjour à vous aussi.] Good Morning to you too.

[Wie geht es Ihnen heute?] How are you today?

[Ich fühle mich gut.] I'm feeling fine.

[Deutsch] German

[S'il vous plait] Please

[Sì] Yes

[Caffè] Coffee **(For those who can't guess.)**

[Caffè con panna.] Coffee with cream.

[Bene...due cappuccini e un macchiato.] Good...two cappuccinos and one macchiato.

[Certo, perchè no?] Sure, why not?

[mein bruder] my brother

[Nein.] No.

[Danke.] Thanks.

[Ausztria] Austria **(In Hungarian.)**

**Sorry for the crappy chapter. But, please, review. It's what I put in my imaginary I.V. to keep me alive. Also, if anyone has any suggestions on what I should change/put in the story to make it better, review or PM me. Oh, yah. One of my friends told me I should answer to reviews, so I'll be doing that too.**


	14. Chain Reactions

**A/N; **What's jiggling? My, my... You thought i was dead? It hurts so. I got wonderful, recent reviews from certain **freakyvampirecatgirl**, **couTokki**, **sweetyjg**, and others. And yes, my finger are suicidal. I got a burn on my wedding band finger **(I'm not married...yet. A few more years for that.)** and it's still not healed. Damn, it hurts. Five of my nails are broken and their cold. 'Anymore complaints?' you say? Well yes. [Insert old British man voice.] I'm in 10th now, and the homework load is ridiculous. But I think I came out with a pretty good chapter this time. It's short though. Or not. You judge. Happy reading.

**A/N2; **Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites! And keep voting on future pairings! The poll is on my profile. *Scarfs down her peanut butter cookies.*

Also, if you have a **MacBook** or a **MacBook Pro**, on the link bar (that thing that should be saying 'http: .net /s /6660190 /14/ The_New_Girl' sans spaces) should have something that say – **Reader **or **RSS** sometimes. If you click on it, it brings you into 'Reader' mode. So no squinting anymore, grandma! Just incase you didn't know...

**Disclaimer; **Do I own Hetalia? Do. I. Own. Hetalia? You ass! You know I don't own Hetalia! Why would you ask such a thing!

* * *

Japan had gotten home at about 11:46 last night, and it was really starting to show; when he had rolled out of his futon it was 10:21.

_I feel like America-kun now._ He thought to himself while lazily brushing his teeth. The feel of over sleeping was a greasy, and heavy feeling. A quite, hot bath had taken care of that dreadful presence, and he got to work immediately, doing paperwork for the upcoming conference, and making a few calls.

Japan currently sat at his kotatsu, signing away documents, and trade agreements. China's demands on Hello Kitty products which he insisted on calling 'Shinatty-chan', Russia's unusual proposal for whaling in order to obtain materials for perfumes, Hungary, and his…um…business, and other matters. His 'To-Do' list was steadily shortened until there was one final thing at the end of the list, 'Call England'.

So, he got up, and headed for the kitchen where the phone hung conveniently on the wall near a spice cabinet. It seemed to take forever just to reach for the device. He dialed the number for England's cell and let it ring.

_**MWH**_

Somewhere in Brooklyn, a person with a blond mop for a head rolled over in his sheets, before being woken by the alarm clock on the table nearby. England rubbed the back of his head slowly after sitting up into a lazy slouch. He took a slow, cold shower, but it didn't help much. So, after he combed out his unruly hair, and shaved a bit, he went down to get a cup of Earl Grey.

Still in his pajamas, there he sat at the kitchen looking over the paper. It wasn't as good _The Daily Telegraph_, but still, it was okay. While skimming the sports section – scoffing under his breath about how 'rugby is better than that stupid American football', a loud clatter came from upstairs, and caught his attention. He threw the paper down on the table as nicely as he possibly could, and went to see what had made the noise. He had a pretty good of idea of what, or rather, who exactly made the sound, but just to humor himself, he went anyway.

What he found was an American, tangled in sheets, on the floor, still snoring a vague tune – which oddly sounded like the American anthem. But it must be just the fact that he's not even fully awake.

"Hmmfg… Hee-hee… Extra pickles…"

Arthur gave the other a puzzled look. _Extra pickles? _Alfred rolled about on his spot on the wood flooring. His hand came flying out, and smacked the area next to him, leaving a dent in the oak boards.

"…yhmfg. You want fries with this shake…."

The Brit had enough of this. He went back downstairs, and started the coffee maker. He could make coffee! Not two minutes later, the sound of size 15 feet pounding down the upstairs hallway just to make it to the stairs and make equally as much noise.

The strawberry blond came bounding into the kitchen, fully awake, no less; "Morning Iggy!"

'Iggy' scowled, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like 'It's not Iggy, git'. Puling out his Superman mug, Alfred poured himself a cup of coffee, and joined England at the kitchen table. He attacked the milk, then the sugar, and began sipping at the now completed coffee.

After a few minutes, he decided to break the painful silence.

"So…", he started, "What'cha gonna do today?"

The answer was short, and curt.

"Paperwork."

Alfred started into his mug, as if the meaning of life was hidden at the bottom with the result of over-sugaring the beverage.

"So, uh. Did, uh, Kiku call you yet?"

England glanced up, set the paper down, and sighed.

"No, Alfred. No he didn't. Please stop. I don't want to talk about this."

America looked down at his coffee in defeat. He couldn't really make the other feel better, or make himself feel any better either, so what could he do? He hated this feeling of helplessness. Damn it, he was the hero! He was supposed to help people in distress, and yet he couldn't do anything.

In that moment, God probably heard his angry thoughts, and decided to shine a bit of light on the situation; the phone rang. Arthur didn't say anything but the two men kept looking back at each other as if to ask, 'Well? Go answer it'. America slid his chair out, and followed the drone of the phone ringing all the way to the foyer.

"Hey! Arthur! It's your cell!"

Slowly, the Brit got up, making his way to his phone. Alfred handed him the mobile, and sat on a nearby armchair unceremoniously.

The amount of emotions that passed on England's face in the two and half minutes he was on the phone was truly astonishing, considering how many he goes thru in a normal day. At first it was slight hope, then surprise, next sadness, after that – slight anger, and finally determination. The words that flew out of the Europeans' mouth didn't even register in Americas' thoughts.

Arthur flipped the cell closed, and almost slammed it on the table. He turned to the other with a face of a man on a mission.

"Get dressed. We're going to Germany's house."

_**RDX**_

Japan hung the phone with a heavy heart. God, what had he just started? Now what he had to do was get to Germany's house before the situation got any uglier.

The Asian pulled a grey, pin-strip scarf from the coatrack, and flung it around his neck. Slipping on his almost-dead, brown loafers on, he stepped out into the finger-nipping cold once more.

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

He got to the Germans' shared house in less than twenty minutes. He tried to keep the anxiety down; he tried to push in away, but it would come back stronger each time. Something was going to happen; he just knew it. And by any means, he was going to try to stop it.

Kiku's finger went for the doorbell, more tense than usual.

_**MWH**_

Ludwig rested his head into the palm of his hand. Almost an hour of pure tranquility, and already a good pile of papers were completed. He pulled out a calculator to do some taxes on the current page he was working on. And after all this was done, he had to clean up after the _things_ that lived in his house.

But… who was to say that the girl was messy, or ungrateful? She hadn't even been here for two full nights. She had asked politely for money, even suggesting physical labor as compensation.

He looked down at his work, realizing all this thinking was getting nothing done. The man decided that, yes, even he, needed a break. He had been doing work since 8:33 this morning, and now it was 11:12.

Germany got up, and made his way to the kitchen. He set the coffee maker, and turned the machine on. He leant back against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish.

The doorbell rang. The blond looked up in confusion. Who would be here at this time? No one had called him.

The doorbell rang again once more. The German sighed, and went to answer the door.

"Hallo. Vhat busin- Japan?"

Japan bowed a bit more hastily than usual; "こんにちは、ドイツ。I am veruy sorry to bozuher you. May I comu'in?"

Germany moved aside for his friend, closing the door after the other. "Ja, comhe in. Vhat did youh comhe so earhly fohr?"

The Asian sat down on the couch, not making eye contact, rather twiddling his fingers very slightly. Kiku didn't have a wide range of known expressions, so the anxiety was very evident on his face. And this worried Ludwig.

"Japan, vhats goihg on?"

Japan looked up from his 'oh-so-interesting' fingers; "Ah, werrul, Igirisu-san iz taking carru of the guirl untirl he finds a sperlu to senrd her back horum. He hirede me to find her afrter Furansu-san, and his fruiends kidnappued her. I hared callred to infroum him that we'u had fround her and took her hrome."

"Ja,", Germany gave a confused look to the Japanese man, "buht, vhat's vhrong?"

"He didn't tahke it werrul when I tolrd him he courldn't see her untril the meetring. He got evren angrier when I said we woruld have to dicuss with the other nrations what to do wirth her."

"Vhat?"

Kiku gave his friend a very serious look; "He's corming to get her."

"Vhat doh youh mean 'he's cohimng to-"

In that moment, a loud bang came from the entryway.

"Germany! Japan! Where's the girl?"

_**SMT**_

England stormed angrily down the sidewalks of Manhattan. It had taken them twenty minutes to get from Brooklyn to Greenwich Village. He was in no mood to be a gentleman now; his actions could vouch for that.

America ran to try to keep up with the others fast pace. It was weird; usually people ran to keep up with him.

"Dude! Slow down!"

Arthur hissed. "Hurry up you git, or Japan will be us to Germany's house." He slammed into a random person, cursing when they told him to 'watch where he's going'.

Alfred finally caught up to his former caretaker. "Dude, Iggy! Stop trying to trip my citizens!" England scoffed; "Belt up, wanker."

"Iggy! What's with the witch attitude? What happened? Who called you?"

But the other didn't answer, though he did stop trying to shove people. Germany's house came into view, causing the Englishman to become even more aggressive; they made it to the door in almost no time.

"Come on, America." England went straight for the doorknob before Alfred stopped him; "Hey, Arthur, don't you think we should ring the doorbell first?"

The other's eyes sharpen with an intent to kill; "No." He slammed the door open.

"Germany! Japan! Where's the girl?"

He barged into the house, and found the two he was looking for sitting in the foyer. He marched right up to Germany. "Where's the girl?"

Ludwig stood to his full height; "England, zhis is noht zhe tim-"

Arthur repeated his question, leaving no room for discussion by the tone of his voice. "Where's Julie?"

Germany sighed. "I'll tehll youh, if youh prohmise not to goh on an ahgry rampahge."

The Brit gave a small smile, and tucked his hands behind his back; "Fine, I agree." What they didn't know was that he had his fingers crossed.

America noticed this though. "Hey Iggy, why-"

The other shot a look toward him, telling him to shut it. The German continued; "Juhlie is shtaying here unhtil zhe meehting." Arthur's eye twitched ever so slightly. "She is ouht vith Italien und mein bruder. Zhey vent to a resturahnt on 14th St."

The 'gentleman' turned on his heels, and pulled Alfred with him. "Come on, we're going to get her back."

"Iggy! I'm not following any of this! What's wrong!"

"Oi!" Germany shouted, "She's noht shtaying vith youh!"

"Oh, yes, indeed she is!" The other one yelled back.

Ludwig ran after the Englishman, and the American, Japan not too far behind. He locked up his house, hastily throwing on a random jacket. England tried to shake them off, but it was no use. They neared 14th street, and didn't have to look hard, when they saw the famous 'ahoge' of Italy, Prussia's crayon white hair and Julie's single highlight. England shouted out in an attempt to catch her attention; "Julie!"

_**ATS**_

"Julie!"

The girl's head whipped around, looking for who called her name.

"Hey, did you guys hear something?" She raised a brow.

Feliciano shook his head; "No, perché? Did'a you hear something?"

She frowned. "Hmm, I guess I was just hearing things. It happens to everyone sooner or later."

"Julie!"

But there it was again? Maybe some other 'Julie' was being called? It happened a lot in school, and there were only three other _Julie_s. It was very likely that it could happen in public.

"Julie! Dear, turn around!"

Okay, that was creepy. That sounded just liked a British accent, just like…. England! She turned a nice 87° to see the Brit running towards her with America, Germany, and Japan behind in tow.

"England! What are you doing here?" Julie giggled. She ran towards him, and nearly tackled him into a bear hug. He blushed lightly, but petted her hair anyways.

The other three caught up to the steadily growing group. Germany butted into their hug; "England, youh canh't keep her! Ve'e have to discussh zhe sihtuation vith zhe ozher nahtions!"

"No!," Arthur shouted, "She came to this dimension in my house, so she's under my jurisdiction!"

America coughed. "Technicality, I brought her here." No one listened.

Prussia scoffed; "Youh just vhant her 'cause you're finally fehd up vith jackhing off by youhrself, and youh khnow no prohstitute vhould vhant to be vith youh, eyehbrows, kesese!"

Julie starred at Gilbert, disgusted; "Okay, first, eww. I don't need to know about what ever the hell you guys do at night. Two; that's mean! I'm not a slut!"

England's anger was boiling out of control. "How – how dare you!" He let go of the girl and flung his hand toward Prussia's face. "You – you –!"

"No! Don't do it!"

**Smack!**

The sound of skin assaulting skin rang out. Prussia opened his eyes expecting to feel the sting on broken flesh. Instead he didn't feel anything. What came next sickened the six nations to their stomachs.

**Crash! "Ah – ughh, ughf – uhh…"**

**〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙**

The pain was unbearable. She had never broken a bone; she guessed this was what it felt like. "Ah – ughh, ughf – uhh…" She coughed up a light amount of liquid; it tasted like metal. What ever she was laying on was horribly cold, and hard. She heard some footsteps, but who was coming to her?

"–ulie. Julie. Oh… -od, dear!"

"Ve… Why…you….to her?"

"Cahll an….She's fadhi…."

The world slowly went black as she heard the sound of sirens in the background, but she didn't really care for some reason.

* * *

**Translation; Only like three. Or two. Who's counting?**

[こんにちは、ドイツ。] Good Afternoon, Germany.

[...perché?] ...why?

Holy shit! You must want to kill me now. I make you wait almost two months, for another cliffhanger! I'm evil. I should team up with Mini-Me. **(For Austin Powers and Goldfinger fans.) **Well, I gotta start my French Project. Seriously. It's due tomorrow, and it's 5:14 in New York.

**Stay orange for me. And please review. [Insert old man voice.] Or the prophesy will not be completed, and the balance of the universe will be destroyed along with all of timmmmeee! **


	15. White Walls & An Unknown Visitor

**A/N; **Pa-chow! Look at that bi-otches! 4454 words, and that's without the authors' note, and translations. I felt like that you guys deserved it but you have to do me a favor in return. I'm pretty sure that after you spend the time to read my crappy story, you have the time to vote on my crappy poll. S'il vous plait, Mesdames et Messieurs! _**Vote! **_Because I have to start pairing people off, and it's getting hard with only 7 unique voters. Thank you, to those 7 people.

_Anyways_, enjoy your new chapter guys. This is my… Thanksgiving chapter… Also, thank you to all the Romanians who have viewed my story the most, after all my American orange slices.

_Pentu toți români, vā multumes pentru timpul acordat in citirea povești._

And now…. Bum-ba-ba-bum-bum-bummm!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia, Call of Duty 2, or my own pair of shoes.

* * *

"-make me your radio. Turn me up, when you feel low. This melody- We're almost there, just four more blocks." Julie shouted from farther up the block that they were on.

The three had decided to walk from Germany's house on Bedford Street to 14 St – Union Square, to where the supposed 'surprise' was. The girl started to walk faster after West 3rd Street out of anticipation and soon enough, happened to be a block away from the other two. Prussia had to bust a gut and run to catch up to her just to ask her to slow down.

So now, she was only about ¼ of a block away from the Italian and the Prussian. Every so often, she would a little spin, point out a foot by the heel and start to strut but she would stop when something caught her eye. Italy ran up to her and Gilbert followed to not get left behind.

"Ve, Julie?" Feli looked down to his left because believe it or not, Julie was almost Japan's height and thus, shorter than Feliciano. She looked to him and raised her brows.

"What?"

"What are you singing?" he questioned. This made her crack a crooked smile and giggle. "Oh it's one of the new songs on the radio; it's been stuck in my head all day. You know, the one? Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes?"

Prussia knew this song by heart. The song itself was basically pop music with rap. He asked her if she wanted to sing it with him to pass the time and although she agreed, Julie insisted that walking across Greenwich Village wasn't going to take them an hour. So they began while Italy listened with wrapped attention.

They started singing together for the opening chorus;

"_**My heart's a stereo.**_

_**It beats for you, so listen close.**_

_**Hear my thoughts in every note.**_

_**Oh, oh.**_

_**Make me your radio,**_

_**Turn me up when you feel low.**_

_**This melody was meant for you,**_

_**Just sing along to my stereo."**_

At this point they were half way there. Gilbert took the first verse, rapping while throwing a few moves in to lines. The most surprising thing was that his accent had almost, completely disappeared into thin air.

"_**If I was just another dusty record on the shelf,**_

_**would you blow me off and play me like everybody else?"**_

The German did a little shrug with his shoulders and spun.

"_**If I asked you to scratch my back could you handle that?**_

_**Like yeah, check it Travie. I can handle that.**_

_**Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks.**_

_**This the last girl that play me left a couple cracks."**_

When he had to start repeating the lyrics, Prussia began to pop'n'lock for a bit with his shoulders causing a few people to hoot in encouragement.

"_**I used to- used to- used to- used to-, now I'm over that,**_

_**cause holding grudges over love is ancient artifacts.**_

_**If I could only find a note to make you understand.**_

_**I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hands.**_

_**To keep myself inside your head, like your favorite tune,**_

_**and know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you."**_

Julie jumped back into the chorus and decided to dance with Gilbert.

"_**My heart's a stereo.**_

_**It beats for you, so listen close.**_

_**Hear my thoughts in every note.**_

_**Oh, oh.**_

_**Make me your radio,**_

_**Turn me up when you feel low.**_

_**This melody was meant for you,**_

_**Just sing along to my stereo."**_

"_**If I wasn't an old-school, fifty pound boom box,**_

_**would you hold me on your shoulder wherever you walk?**_

_**Would you turn my volume up before of the cops,**_

_**and crank it higher every time they told you to stop?**_

_**And all I ask-"**_

The girl suddenly stopped dancing when they came to 14th street, effectively instigating Gilbert and Feliciano's curiosity. She ran down the street, putting the two in a desperate run after her. Then they caught up, they saw she had stopped in front of a brown restaurant clearly labeled, 'Max Brenner – Chocolate by The Bald Man'*.

Gilbert slowly turned his head to stare at Julie with his brows furrowed into a very inquisitive look. "Ein Schokoladen-Laden?"

The brunette shook her head. "I have no idea what you said other than the word 'chocolate'. But I know one thing, if you think that this place is only a chocolate shop, you're sadly mistaken."

"Ve, why Julie?" Italy piped up.

She gave him a smile mixed with happiness and cockiness; "It's a restaurant completely devoted to chocolate."

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

The interior design was certainly something. It wasn't the fact that everything had a chocolaty, orange thing going on; it was the sight of big vats of different chocolates being stirred. Apparently, the chocolate was being piped to all corners of the restaurant, seeing as there were brown pipes tracing the celling clearly labeled; Caution – Hot.

Italy originally had decided to display his International Access card, but when Julie had found out it was basically a free-access pass for everything in the world, she sternly told him to put it back in his pocket. Really, her exact words were, 'Excuse my Latin, but hell no. Special treatment would only make this awkward. I'd like for your first time here to be nice, and memorable; not overrated.' – but it doesn't matter.

Italy had never, really done anything 'like a human' as one could put it. Almost all of the people he had ever met knew what he was, and how to treat him accordingly. Prussia had griped a bit, because special treatment was something an ex-nation didn't have, and he wanted; he got over it quickly, thought. It's not like when he went out to Berlin, the people kneelt down and kissed his feet.

They were seated at a quaint table in the center, and everything went relatively quickly. The waitress was helpful beyond words; she did her job with a genuine smile. Feliciano, being the original Italian he was, sneaked a few compliments, winks; even a couple of kisses in between here, and there. This made their server flustered, but enthusiastic, nonetheless.

Italy turned from the young woman to see Julie desperately trying not to laugh with a gaunt hand to her face. The waitress left, leaving the three to their business.

"What'sa so funny, ve?" the Italian questioned, maybe even a little peeved, you could say. She made a weird, little noise that sounded like a mixture of a 'pff' and a snort; "Mon dieu. It's just so funny how you're so Italian."

Prussia gave her a non-impressed look.

"Yah, yah. I know. It's a stupid comment, but seriously. The fact that he's being so Italian makes me want to be Italian."

Both nations a raised an eyebrow in question. "Ve. Really?" Feliciano asked skeptically.

Julie waved her hand around as a gesture to assure her present caretaker. Her eyes had a small light within them as she went off on Italian history, and culture.

"Vraiment! I've been learning European history for a while, and I find that the glory of the Renaissance is undeniable. The art from that period has pushed me to set very high goals for myself."

Gilbert smirked. _Pansy artist_, he thought. On the other hand, the Italian was completely intrigued be the new topic; "Ve, do you'a know the story of La cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore?"

The girl leaned onto the table, and into the conversation from pure excitement. "Ah, bien sûr! The story goes that Arnolfo di Cambio had designed the Cathedral in 1294, but after his death the work for the building slowed down significantly. They picked up the project after 1334 when the assignment got reappointed to a man named Giotto, but he too, soon died in 1337, and Andrea Pisano took over. The construction was again halted because of the Black Death in 1348.

A year later it was resumed; in forty-one years, the nave was finished and then in 1418 only the dome was incomplete. It became such a problem that they soon held a contest for it, and out of many artists, a master goldsmith by the name of Filippo Brunelleschi won.

The way he won is that when he signed up, the judges wanted to know how he was to do it. Brunelleschi challenged all the other contestants to a task; they had to be able to balance an egg upside-down. All failed, and he soon revealed the answer by jabbing the tip of the egg broken, which thus allowed it to stand inverted. The other artists, clearly upset proclaimed that if they had knew, they too would be able to do it. The only response Brunelleschi gave was; 'Exactly.'"

By this point Italy had leaned in so far, he was kneeling on his chair. Never had he been so enraptured by his history. Only Prussia, and probably France, prized their own past so much.

"Umm, your food is ready…" The two sat back down as the nice waitress placed their food in front of them.

"Thank you." Julie gave a wide smile to the young lady, and received one in return. Prussia and Feliciano immediately began to eat, leaving the other in the dust as she picked at her Asian Chicken & Soba Noodle salad.

Gilbert looked up from his smoked turkey sub, barbeque sauce dripping from his mouth. "Arhen't youh goih to eat zhat?"

She looked up quickly; "Yeah, sorry. I just… spaced out for a minute there." Sipping at her fruit smoothie in an unusual cup labeled 'Drink Me', Julie began to eat seriously, and soon finished the salad.

They finished, and Italy opted for fondue, which pleased the albino as well. The girl rarely touched it, except for setting one of the marshmallows on fire for her own enjoyment, Prussia promptly setting fire to his marshmallows.

All three soon left, paying their respective share. Julie walked past the little store at the front of the restaurant, and she decided that next they came here she would have to buy their famous 'Chocolate in a Syringe'.

"Julie!"

As they walked out of Max Brenner's, Julie could have sworn she heard someone calling her name. She looked around for the source, but found none.

"Hey, did you guys hear something?" She raised a brow.

Feliciano shook his head; "No, perché? Did'a you hear something?"

The girl frowned. "Hmm, I guess I was just hearing things. It happens to everyone sooner or later."

"Julie!"

But there it was again? Maybe some other 'Julie' was being called? It happened a lot in school, and there were only three other _Julie_s. It was very likely that it could happen in public.

"Julie! Dear, turn around!"

She quickly turned around to see England getting closer, the ends of his trench coat flapping erratically. Behind him followed America, Germany, and Japan.

"England! What are you doing here?" She ran towards him, and the two nearly toppled over from her force. The girl hugged him even more tightly when she felt the Brit pet her head. The other three had caught up, but before she even got to say hello to anyone else, something when a bit wrong.

"England, youh canh't keep her! Ve'e have to discussh zhe sihtuation vith zhe ozher nahtions!"

England? Keeping her?

"No!," Arthur shouted, "She came to this dimension in my house, so she's under my jurisdiction!" He held on to her, tenser than before. It was starting to hurt her ribs.

America coughed behind Japan. "Technicality, I brought her here." What?

Prussia walked past Italy, who now looked worried about the situation, and sneered at Arthur; "Youh just vhant her 'cause you're finally fehd up vith jackhing off by youhrself, and youh khnow no prohstitute vhould vhant t be vith youh, eyehbrows, kesese!"

_Oh! That's just uncalled for!_ She gave a disgusted look to the albino. "Okay, first, eww. I don't need to know about what every the hell you guys do at night. Two; that's mean! I'm not a slut!" She pressed her lips into a thin line to make her point.

It all happened to fast. England let go of her, and had gone for the Prussian ex-nation in a fit of furry. Violence isn't an answer, so she tried to stop the Brit. After that all she could feel was a horrible pain in her chest, and the taste of iron on her lips.

"–ulie. Julie. Oh… -od, dear!"

"Ve… Why…you….to her?"

"Cahll an….She's fadhi…."

She couldn't make out the people crowding her, or the sound of sirens. The pain engulfed all feeling, and soon enough, everything turned black.

_**[SWITD]**_

The Brit paced back and forth continuously in the hotel room he had rented two nights ago. Germany had called for an ambulance immediately, and America had ordered the best care for the girl. He wasn't allowed to ride to the hospital with the girl. Instead, the police – and the other nations – had filed a restraining order; now he wasn't allowed within 3 feet of her, lest he be detained, country or not.

The wait, and its accompanying guilt, was unnerving. The doctor said she might be in a short-term coma, but still. The possibly that he had killed Julie slowly crept into his mind. _Ha, ha, ha… she's not dead. No. I'm not strong enough. No…_ He started to pace at a faster rate, and it was being to annoy the other three nations in the room.

"Angleterre! Stop it! You're beginning to make me worried!" the French country frowned angrily.

America looked up from his Twix Ice-Cream Bar, which he had been eating because of what had been eating at him. "Seriously Arthur, it's making us all nervous."

Canada tugged on the sleeve of his brother, "Hey… Alfred. Who's this girl that England injured?"

The other looked over to his sibling, completely out of it. "Oh, hey, dude! Canadia! When'd you get here?"

Alfred gave his northern neighbor a smack on the back for some good measure, thinking nothing of his strength. The other face-planted into the king-size bed they were currently sitting on, due to the sheer force of his brothers' arm. He slowly got back up; there was a stinging pain in his back. Matthew sighed in defeat. Thank goodness he left Kumakiki at home; he didn't need another person, or bear, forgetting him. "I've been here the whole time, America."

The fore-mentioned one raised a brow, surprised. "Oh." He turned back around to give England an idea of his; the Canuck gave the other a half-assed look. He tapped his brothers' shoulder once again; "America… Who's the girl?"

Alfred didn't answer as he focused on the ice-cream bar, eyebrows knitted close together in concentration; he only waved a hand as if to say 'Yeah, yeah…'. Matthew's hands balled up into fists; he was ready to yell at the American, "Alfred, you hoser! I asked you-"

The phone rang, leaving a flustered British man to get it in desperation. He groaned as a run in the carpet made him fall, and Francis beat him to it; "Oui?"

There was moment of silence. France's lips pressed into a tight line. This was going to be problematic.

"Merci. Oui, we'll be right z'ere." He turned to the others including England, who was now silently griping.

"On y va. She 'az just woke up."

_**[TO2DSL]**_

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

The whirr that drew her from a never-ending trance was the only sound filling the whole room; and it was horrifying. Her eyes opened ever so slowly, and for a moment, her mind felt as if it was floating – as though she couldn't pull herself from the dream completely.

The room itself scared her even more. All the walls were nothing but white, a pure, artificial white. A dreadful color to stare at, if there were no other colors to control it. The sheets were just as barren, only itchier. And as she slowly moved her head, Julie finally came to. She grimaced at the sight of a little, clear tube that disappeared into her left arm. The girl was never one for needles or tubes.

She tried to lift herself from the extremely horizontal bed, but a shocking flash of pain in her torso halted the action. Pushing back the ugly sheets, she pulled down the inhumane hospital gown to find black bruises littering her chest. The sight was unusual, if anything.

There was a little _click_ on the other side of the room; Julie turned to see a blond nurse walk in. Her hair was short, and curled – a hairstyle that she herself couldn't seem to get down. Julie gave her a weak wave.

"Oh! Are you awake, dear? My, you've been out for two days already!" The lady started to fix her sheets, "I'll go tell the doctor that you're awake." She patted the girl's tangled hair, and left the room.

She relaxed, and took a shaky breath. Her eyes slowly closed; Julie began to relax. It must have been a while before the familiar sound of the door _click_ open came back.

"Oh, my. She was awake when I left her." That must have been the nice lady-nurse from earlier.

"Let me wake her." A British voice?

There was some scuffling, and a few protests of 'no' in the room. A pregnant silence settled over the room before she heard a pair of shoes come towards the bed.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _They stopped, and a small amount of weight sat down on the wide hospital bed. A soft, calloused hand stroked her cheek. Julie leaned into the touch. It was just so… so… comforting; it was weird, too. _Comforting, huh_, she though. The feeling was strange, almost distant.

"Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet."

…_..France?_

Her eyes opened a bit more quickly this time. The Frenchman's hair was hanging down around his face as he looked over her, "Bonjour."

"Bon….jour."

〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙

England gritted his teeth as America and Scotland held him back. _Why does froggy-face get to touc- wake her!_ He, and several other nations watched as France slowly sat down on the whiter-than-white sheets of the hospital bed. He stroked her cheek, causing everyone else to become a bit nervous.

"Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet."

As she sluggishly opened her eyes, England let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. Francis smiled; "Bonjour."

Julie returned the gesture. "Bon….jour."

Alfred gave a sympathetic look to his citizen and combed out her hair; "How'ya doin' kiddo?"

She drew in a raspy wheeze as the other nations began to come near her. Prussia stood next to the opposite side of the bed. "Kesese! Zhank goodness youh're noht dead!"

"Bruder!" Germany pushed his brother out of the way. "I'm sohrry fohr mein bruder, Fräulein Julie."

She giggled as much as she could without stressing her chest too much; "It's… okay. Really."

Ireland and Wales leaned over the side of the bed as well. "Is dis 'ere? Roi young she is." The Irishman whispered to his Welsh counterpart. The other nodded in agreement. A few other nations crowed around the bed, looking at the girl, just as she was looking at them.

"Ye burst** a thes yoong lassie Arthur? Ah thought ye waur a chiel***!" Scotland erupted with laughter. Arthur scowled at his older brother from across the room.

Italy looked over France's shoulder, his face contorted in worry. "Ve…. How are you'a feeling, Julie?"

She gave him a kind look in return; "I've felt better. Can't say I've felt worse; I've never broken a bone."

"Ve…. Really?"

Julie shrugged a little. "Yah, but as a child I used to get horrible gashes and cuts. I've had three or four skin graphs for my knees. And I still have the scars to prove it."

The door clicked open, and everyone's attention landed on the nurse from before. The lady gave a wide smile, "Welcome back, again, sweetheart. Are you feeling a little better, dear?"

The young woman shooed the countries from the bedside. "Stop crowing this poor child!" Julie winced as the nurse lifted her arm, and quickly looked away at the sight of the I.V. in her arm. "You alright honey?"

"Yah…" she kept her head turned, "I… just don't like needles. That's all."

She tried to relax as the woman opened the I.V. and administered 10.9 milligrams of morphine. She tried to keep her mind off the fact that she just might get addicted to the painkiller. The nurse gave her a pat on the head in comfort and fixed her sheets, once again. "I'll be back in a few hours to re-fill your I.V., sugar." The young lady left the room, pushing a little cart with her.

The nations began to crowd the edges of the bed as soon as the woman left, and France took his seat on the girl's right side. His long, blond hair fell from their place behind his ear, despite his attempts to push it back. Noticing this, she spoke up.

"France?" Julie asked quietly, "Avez-vous un ruban ou un bout de ficelle?"

Francis look confused but pulled out a blue silk ribbon. She gestured to his hair; taking the hint, he tied his hair back. She smiled a little; "C'est mieux."

He looked just like her French cousins; it was extremely nostalgic. _Should I be feeling nostalgia? I think I'm a bit to young for that. _She thought in the back of her mind.

"Sae, ye flung intae a nedry dyke**** by Artie?"

A voice brought her out of her thoughts. Scotland, who had been pushed to the back of the room by the nurse, was now standing next to the I.V., smoking a cigarette. He ran his fingers through his red hair and looked to her.

"Mm-hm." Julie nodded her head bit, "How did all you guys find out?"

Germany coughed a bit, then folding his arms as though in thought. "Vhell, youh vill be released frohm zhe hospitahl in fihve and a halhf vheeks. Afhter zhat, we will whork out a scheduhle so zhat each countrie vhill have equal custody ofh youh. So, I had to tehll zhe ozhers."

Her eyes widened; "Wow. You know, I've always dreamed of visiting every country, but it always just a dream."

America smiled and slapped his chest strongly. "She'll stay with the hero first! And then we can kick commie-butt in Call of Duty 2!"

Julie laughed lightly in agreement, then looked at Japan who had settled on stay sat in a chair near Arthur. "Japan, if I go to your home anytime soon, you owe me a trip to Osaka, and some takoyaki^."

Kiku smiled ever so slightly and nodded; "はい。"

Italy clapped his hands together, got up, and danced around the bed a little. "E io vi mostrerò nei dintorni di Firenze!"

The door _clicked_ again, opening to Spain, who came in with South Italy running in after him, before Russia and his sister Ukraine walked in. The room went quiet as Ivan came to the bedside near the Frenchman, whom was now scooting away.

"Здравствуй пропустить. Я уверен, что вы помните меня." He said with a smile. She looked at him speechless;

"What?"

His smiled got wider, causing Ekaterina to tear up. "You remember me, da?"

Julie nodded her head. "Of course I remember you. How can I not?"

The others looked at her with fear. _Why would she say that! _England thought in horror. Russia flexed his fingers within his black, leather gloves. Japan looked away, Italy hid behind Germany next to Prussia, Scotland turned his cheek, while his brothers pretended to look out the window; they waited in anticipation for what might've come next.

Russia stared at the child. She was in a hospital bed, completely worn-out; the bags under her eyes were a testament of that. He didn't come all the way from his house in St. Petersburg to be sassed by a human child.

"I love Russians; my best friend is Russian."

There were a couple of gasps throughout the room. Ivan looked at her, his eyes widening a bit. In the years that had passed after the Second World War, including the Cold War, he had never heard another country – other nationalities – say that they _liked _Russians. Or that they liked Russia.

He lent down near her face, causing her to back away as much as she could, and did something. The next thing she felt was a pair of cold lips on her cheek. They felt like ice, and sent shivers down her spine. Going away as fast as they came, he whispered; "Я надеюсь, что вы посещаете в ближайшее время."

He stood back up, and whispered something to his sister. She nodded, and then they left the room as Julie gawked. Ludwig clasped his hands together.

"Vhell, v'he ahll have vhork to dho, so, Wales shall look after her in zhe mornings und Süd-Italien vhill have zhe night shift on day v'ones, Frankreich und Schottland shall be day twos."

Romano scowled; "Cosa! Certo che no, strono!"

The German glared at the other. Spain stood in front of his Italian in an attempt to protect him, but Ludwig had already looked away. Wales sat on the bed as the others filed out of the room.

"Wait! France!" she grabbed onto the edge of the hem of the French's shirt. He turned to her as she pulled him down to her face. She kissed either side of his face as he returned the gesture.

"À plus tard, France."

He smiled softly; "S'il vous plait ma petite, François, François Bonnefoi."

"Je sais." She giggled.

Feliciano kissed both of her cheeks as well; "Ciao bella."

"Ciao Signore Italia."

His face lit up, and skipped out the door in pure elation. Spain gave her kisses, so did South Italy, reluctantly. Japan bowed, Germany gave a small smile, Scotland ruffled her hair – which made her slap his hands away – and Ireland did the same.

Finally Wales said his quiet goodbye, letting her know that he'd be back soon. Julie closed her eyes, sighing. It had only been about 35 minutes, and she was already tired. _Or is it the morphine?_

That is, when she felt, yet again another weight sat on the bed. Her eyes shot open to be met with a blond man with violet eyes.

"….Canada? Pourquoi vous êtes là?"

* * *

**Translations **

[Ein Schokoladen-Laden?] A chocolate shop?

[Vraiment!] Really!

[La cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore?] The Cathedral of Saint Maria of Fiore?

[Ah, bien sûr!] Ah, sure!

[…perché?] …why?

[Angleterre,] England,

[On y va.] Let's go.

[Chérie. Réveillez-vous, s'il vous plait. Tout le monde est inquiet.] Sweetheart. Wake up, please. Everybody is worried.

[Bruder!] Brother!

[Fräulein…] Miss…

[Avez-vous un ruban ou un bout de ficelle?] Do you have a ribbon or a piece of string.

[C'est mieux.] Better.

[はい。] Yes.

[E io vi mostrerò nei dintorni di Firenze!] And I'll show you around Florence!

[Здравствуй пропустить. Я уверен, что вы помните меня.] Hello miss. I'm sure you remember me.

[Я надеюсь, что вы посещаете в ближайшее время.] I hope you visit soon.

[…und Süd-Italien,] …and South Italy,

[Frankreich und Schottland,] France and Scottland,

[Cosa! Certo che no, strono!] What! Hell no, asshole!

[À plus tard, France.] See you later, France.

[S'il vous plait ma petite, François, François Bonnefoi.] Please my little one, Francis, Francis Bonnefoy.

[Je sais.] I know.

[Ciao bella.] Later beautiful.

[Ciao Signore Italia.] Later Mr. Italy.

[….Canada? Pourquoi vous êtes là?] ….Canada? Why are you there ?

* Max Brenner – Chocolate by The Bald Man: A very good, chocolate-based restaurant. Look it up. You'll find it.

**Scottish slang;**

** burst: to hit someone.

*** chiel: a gentleman.

**** nerdy dyke: a brick wall or any wall really.

^ takoyaki: octopus dough balls.

**Thank you for reading my ongoing mumbo-jumbo. The 100****th**** reviewer can ask for any type of fanfic of their choosing. **And Happy Birthday to me. I'm one hundred and three! Well, next week. December 3. So, I'll be releasing a short birthday chapter for you boys and squirrels.  
Is it just me, or is my fanfic becoming very musical?


	16. Just Fading

**A/N; ** 'Allo. Okay, here's your late – with good reason – [my birthday] chapter. 'not giving you an age. Maybe later. And…. 65 reviews! Holy shm- canoli! Merci! Keep going! You guys are making me overload on fangirl-ish-ness. I'll have another chapter out on Christmas Day, as your present.

**Disclaimer: **All I want for Christmas is Hetalia! Please Santa! I've been a good little fangirl!

* * *

He watched as the other nations said their goodbyes in their different ways. Some gave the girl kisses on her cheeks, some of them ruffled her hair, and one or two just gave a nod of the head. But somehow, one way or another, he had winded up alone. Not that being alone was a bad thing. It gave people time to think about things; economy, Kumakiko's eyelashes, whatever came to mind.

The child leaded back into the hospital bed. Sighing, she closed her eyes. She looked worn out, tired – entirely drowsy, at least, on the outside. Her hair was starting to come out of its ponytail, and it looked greasy, while dark, purplish bags accompanied her eyes. It was most likely the morphine that was doing this to her, but there were other possibilities.

He got up from his uncomfortable, plastic seat and came next to her bed. He had got there with his brother and their two caretakers only about less than an hour ago, and in that whole time, she hadn't noticed them. The blond came to the side of the bed, and quietly sat down. The other's eyes shot open, and looked right at him as though she saw him.

"….Canada? Pourqoui vous êtes là?"

Matthew stared blankly at her. She… _saw_ him.

He began to sweat as she continued to look at him for an answer. "E-euh, B-bonjour. J'ai été ici depuis 10.00. Je suis venu avec mon frère."

Her face changed to a state of shock. "O-oh. Mon dieu! J'suis désolé! Tout le monde m'a fait occupé."

The Canadian gave a weak smile to the girl. "S-so, what happened to you?"

She sighed once more. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. I was with England when France, Spain and Prussia kidnapped me."

Julie's hands waved about in exaggeration. "Then in the midst of stuff, Austria made an assumption and took me with him. Japan took me to Germany's, and while I was out with Italy and Prussia because they were bored, England and America found me once more. Prussia said something that made England angry as hell, and I got flung into a brick wall." She shrugged, "Stuff happens."

Canada twiddled his fingers. "Oh, um, w-well. Are you al-alright?"

The child giggled, and saluted him. "It's all good."

There was a small silence that ensued, but it was okay for both of them. She tried to move over the best she could, and patted the space next to her. "You can sit next to me if you want. Yuh' look like you're gonna fall over the edge of the bed."

Truthfully, it wasn't a lie. The girl's legs were considerably long, and took almost the entire length of the bed. He nodded, scooting over just a bit.

"You know, you got a funny accent when you speak French." She started, "Not that it's bad. It sounds cool and… striking."

The Canadian could've hugged her right there, but it was impolite, and possibly startling. Instead, he gave a small smile; "Ah, w-well. Um, thank you."

Julie turned her head ever so slightly, as much as she could without inflicting pain on her neck. "De nada."

Matthew's eyebrows furrowed. "Quoi?"

"It means 'de rien' in Spanish." She stated. "Hey. Where's Mister Kumajiro? Ton petit ourse."

The other sighed. "Hmm… I left him at home. I don't need yet another person forgetting me. Not that I'm complaining."

The girl pounded a fist lightly into the palm of her left hand. "You should complain. But then again you need a projecting quality to define yourself with. When I get out, I can help you with that."

Canada gave a weak smile. "….. R-really?"

"Y-y-yes. I c-can." She said jokingly, "You gotta stop s-s-stuttering. Be proud and sure of yourself when you speak. But make sure your words are caring and truthful."

"Okay!" Matthew said louder than normal.

"There you go!"

The two giggled as they talked of random things, jumping from topic to topic with no care. Feeding ducks, bald men, gay penguins, you name it. They both quietly thanked God that she was given a private room. He hid when the nurse came in, but she found him. The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Audra Urnezis, whose parents were both Lithuanian, and told Julie just to call her if she needed something. They talked for a bit before she realized she had to get back, and gave them two chocolate pudding cups. Mathew stared a pudding war by covering his lips with it as though lipstick, which Julie, in turn, retaliated by eating some of his pudding. Sadly, when Wales came back he had to run home.

_**[SWITD]**_

Since then, Canada, and a few other countries would visit her when they could. Usually, Scotland, Wales, France and Italy Romano would watch over her according to the schedule Germany had arranged. They still had work to do, but they're not workaholics. Julie spent most of the time sleeping, due to the morphine. A few of them would bring her little gifts of food, so that she wouldn't have to suffer from American hospital cuisine.

There was a small knock on the door. "C'est moi."

"Vous pouvez entrer, Monsieur François." The child spoke softly.

Francis came in the usual way, hips swaying elegantly. The black trench coat gave a peek of the knit Prussian-blue turtleneck he wore. His beige pants went with the flow of his legs, and sat on a pair of crocodile-skin Italian loafers.

"You don't 'ave to be zo polie wiz me."

He placed a video case near her side. She looked at it with extreme interest; "Mon dieu! Tu as m'acheté 'Les Aristochats'?"

"Bien sûr ma cherie. Si je serais ici, je serais très ennuyé."

She looked at him with a sarcastic look. "Merci." Julie then pointed to the small television set near the foot of her bed. "Vous pouvez le mettre là dans la télé?"

He loaded the cassette into the old T.V., and waited as it loaded. France slowly caressed her forehead. It seemed as though she just kept getting weaker and weaker.

The opening turned on, and the girl began to clap her hands to the song.

« … doux mimis ont des profils de Joconde? Quels chats trésor savent se tenir dans le grand monde? Très gourmets refusant… »

Soon enough, her eyes closed as the morphine began to beat down on her again. Francis could only watch as her eyelids gave out.

« …Mais naturellement! Mais naturellement, voyons! Les aristocats... »

* * *

**Translations;**

[….Canada? Pourqoui vous êtes là?] ….Canada? Why are you here?

[E-euh, B-bonjour. J'ai été ici depuis 10.00. Je suis venu avec mon frère.] U-um. H-hello. I've been here since 10 o'clock. I came with my brother.

[O-oh. Mon dieu! J'suis désolé! Tout le monde m'a fait occupé.] O-oh! My god! I'm sorry! Everyone was sidetracking me!

[De nada.] It's nothing.

[Quoi?] What?

[…de rien…] …it's nothing…

[Ton petit ourse.] Your little bear.

[C'est moi.] It's me.

[Vous pouvez entrer, Monsieur François.] You can come in, Mister Francis.

[…polie…] Polite; Feminine, Singular

[Mon dieu! Tu as m'acheté 'Les Aristochats'?] My god! You bought me 'The Aristocats'?

[Bien sûr ma cherie. Si je serais ici, je serais très ennuyé.] Why sure, my darling. If I were here, I would be very bored.

[Vous pouvez le mettre là dans la télé?] Can you put it in the tele?

[« … doux mimis ont des profils de Joconde? Quels chats trésor savent se tenir dans le grand monde? Très gourmets, refusant… »] …sweet kitties have portrais of the Mona Lisa ? What treasured cats know how to behave in the social worl? They're food experts, refusing…

[« …Mais naturellement! Mais naturellement, voyons! Les aristocats... »] But naturally! But naturally, you see! The Aristocats…

[Insert posh British accent.] **I say sir! Have you no time to vote! **_Yah, I know. I'm starting to get annoying with ths 'vote' crap. But it's the truth. _**Thank you to the people who have keep the interest in my story alive. Thanks to those like **freakyvampirecatgirl**, **HannajimaShields**, **RadicalRadio**, and **France's fille jamais **who drive my work ethic. Also, thank you **Aoi Shiori **who noticed my boo-boo with Chapters 2 and 3.**

**See ya'll again on Christmas Day!**


	17. Keep Away

**A/N; **You guys must be pissed-shit mad. He-he. I like it. And while I was slacking, I got myself a sock-monkey hat. It **_drips_** awesomeness. Buttttttt…. I gots some sur-preezes for you guys. Guess what's out now? Guess what comes out tomorrow? Guess what comes out the day after that? Same answer for it all; chapter. Aww yeah! And you guys are getting Spamano. Empty lies? Maybe? We'll see what the future'll bring. Fh;oerglohgoioglr Opps sorry. Watching M*A*S*H and Charles just said "No, it's the American way. Survival of the richest." He-he-he-he-heee.

**Disclaimer:** Me? Own Hetalia? That's not funny.

* * *

The grandfather clock tolled; 9:00 am. Outside, multiple black cars rolled up to the entrance. The chauffeur tipped his glossy hat with a wrinkled smile.

"Bonne journée, Monsieur France."

Long, nearly boney, fingers pushed away a silky lock of hair; "Bonne journée."

Echoes of dress shoes resounded through out the hallway as several countries filed into the conference room. A shuffling of papers and chairs became prevalent as the space filled. Coffee mixed with the scent of Tortellini Ripieni di Formaggio and a continuous string of 've's could be heard. The last of the nations made their way to the large round table – some running, others strolling with a lazy ease. When all were seated, the summit began. Germany stood, giving a cough to call attention. He, about to voice the meeting's schedule, was abruptly cut off by the sound of a chair scraping across the carpeted floor.

"Bonjour mes amis."

Ludwig slammed his hands down onto the chestnut table, making both papers and pasta fly.

"Veeeee! Perché?"

"Frankreich! Shtit down!"

France, ignoring the German, continued; "I 'ave some… concerning… news to tell you; Julie 'as been diagnosed in a coma. She 'asn't waken since Saturday." His eyes trailed away, downcast.

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. Austria remained shocked, his eyes, widened. Hungary, on the left, gave a saddened look to her ex-spouse; she couldn't bear this news. Russia, at the far end off the table, could see his sister tearing up out of the corner of his eye and his smile dropped ever so slightly. Japan felt his breath catch in his throat at France's words. He saw the Italian brothers become tight-lipped; no one spoke a word.

"What!" England flew from his seat in fury. "What the _bloody hell_ do you mean 'in a coma'?"

Francis didn't answer. Instead, he sat down and kept his eyes trained on anything but the Englishman's face. Arthur became increasingly angry with the Frenchman's act.

"Look at me frog! What do you mean 'in a coma'?"

France scowled at the other. "W'at do you want me to say, hein? Because I don't know w'at to say! I don't know w'at to–"

The doors burst open on the other side of the room. A young man – quite possibly twenty years of age – ran in, his wavy russet-brown hair flying and bouncing behind him. He wheezed his words through dry, chapped lips; "Monsieur Bonnefoy! L'hôpital m'a téléphoné! Julie s'est réveillé de son coma hier!"

France wasted no second. He grabbed his papers and packed his briefcase before hurrying out the conference room; Hungary followed him. The attendant motioned them to a red Peugeot 107 – double-parked mind you – and the car soon sped off down the streets of Manhattan.

Meanwhile, Germany had declared the meeting was on hold as America, Russia and England al took off to the hospital. The rest left, taking the opportunity to explore the Big Apple's most admired city.

_**MHW**_

The clicks of heels woke her from the dull daytime thoughts. She twisted her head in the direction of the sound; the doctor assured her, she was to be released today. Whiplash nagged her lightly, but it was ignored in favor of staring at the door.

_**SATM**_

France and Hungary were led by a nurse to room 492. The way the French nation seemed to eye the human woman made Elizabeta uncomfortable. She kept her frying pan on her body – just incase something got funky. The nurse, who introduced herself as Mrs. Urnezis, pushed open a familiar white door to reveal Julie sitting upright in the hospital bed, the I.V. still attached to her left arm. She looked a bit better than when he had last seen her.

His fingers stretched out as her came to her side, the bony tips brushing against her face, paled by the constant bed rest. Her cheeks were still as plump as ever. She smiled; "Bonjour France."

The organ that beat within Francis warmed at the sweet sound of a girl's voice greeting him. The clock seemed to stop, but it started up again at the echo of the door opening once more.

"Good day Mister Bonnefoy."

A heavy masculine voice came through the slightly ajar door. His glasses were painfully square – his coat, painfully white.

He approached her. "How are you feeling Julie?" He asked nonchalantly, as though he had asked this to many other people, which he probably did.

"I'm okay." Her voice came rusty, but articulated as ever. "I've had worst." She replied with a small shrug.

Francis stepped to the side as the doctor took out a stethoscope and began to measure her heartbeat and breathing. He asked her if she still felt pain; she nodded. He then told her she would have to come back next week for a final check. Until then, she would be placed in a wheelchair.

They couldn't bear to watch when a male nurse came in with the wheelchair and a small stack of clothes. He lifted the girl gently and held her up as the nurse from before removed the child's hospital gown, revealing the bruises and the bandage encircling her torso. The nurse then dressed her with a white, long-sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

Together, the nurses placed the young girl in the wheelchair, who was given a pair of pink socks. The socks were a gift from the Lithuanian nurse to cheer Julie up. It was unbearable to watch young children be condemned to wheelchairs. Even if it was only for two weeks, she believed youngsters should be able to run and jump.

The doctor signed the discharge order. In the lobby, the young man from before, Jérôme, was introduced to her. France asked if he would like to become Julie's assistant, for a raise – of course; his offer was readily accepted. Jérôme was to help her be as mobile as she could.

_**LTR**_

_Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!_

A pair of military-issued boots clomped through the hall, marching in such a way, that it seemed they were aiming to push a hole in the marble floor beneath them.

"Italien! Gehen Sie schneller!"

Another pair of shoes ran at a much more uneven pace along the previous, almost tripping underneath the crisp, grey, business suit pants. The tips of the crocodile loafers peaked out into square, yet triangular ends with little ridges due to the stitching. They slipped and slid which way on the waxed surface of the marble.

The Italian whined and whimpered due to a loss of non-existent energy; "Germany! Why'a do we have'a to have the meeting a'again?"

"Nein! Not 'again'! Zhe meehting izh reuhmed. Julie hazh been released nd v'he have to figure out vhat v'he vhill do vhith her."

"Veeee….."

The two made a right – into the conference room from before, which was once again filled. All eyes turned in their direction; they could hear the stomping long before the set arrived. Ludwig marched in with a serious air and took his place at the podium that stood before the table.

"Ja." The German coughed. "Guten Morgen. Vhell–"

From nine seats down, Russia waved at the other; "Да! Доброе утро для вас тоже!"

Ludwig gave a blank stare before continuing;

"Ja. Vhell, Entschuldigung fhor zhe unusual morning. As some of you do not know, Amerika vhaz messing vith magik–"

A few laughs went around the table.

Ludwig coughed loudly; "_und_ summoned a girl from anozher dimension. After a series of evhents, she became injured und haz been in zhe hospitahl fhor nehrly a whole vheek. She fhell into a coma, but vhoke fhrom it. Now v'he have to figure out how she vhill be handled. She cohming now vith France und Hungary."

Turkey banged his hand on the table like so many others seemed to do today.

"So we have to take care of some brat we don't know!" he questioned.

"I won't waste money on another person." shouted Switzerland.

Romano sneered from the other side of the table. "That's because you're cheap, gun bastard!"

Multiple nations rose from their places and began to argue over trivial matters. The sound of feet approaching the conference room was drowned out by the shouts of them.

_**ATS**_

"Drive faster you git!"

"Stop yellin' at me!"

England folded his arms in frustration. The girl was his – solely his. Not that he was becoming possessive of her. He was… protecting her.

_Yes. That's it. She was brought here with magic; she's my responsibly_,he though.

Alfred sat in his own state of mind, rushing past other cars through the pure chaos of 2nd Ave. It would still take them fifteen minutes before they arrived at the New York Downtown Hospital.

_Come on! Go faster car! Don't let that commie beat us there!_

_**ATS**_

Russia parked his Tempest colored Renault Clio across the street from the hospital on William Street. As he turned the corner, he could see France's Peugeot 107 parked by the entrance. He made his way through the parking lot filled of Fords and Hondas to the front. The people in the lobby of shirked away at the sight of the tall Russian. Ivan spotted a group of people near the lobby counter, including France, Hungary, someone in a wheelchair and a human.

_Vhere is Julie, da?_

France was startled by the tap he received on his shoulder. The sight he was met with was not one he wanted to see. He resolved he was just going to have to hold out, because Hungary was occupied with the bills and the paperwork.

"'Allo Russie. W'at brings you 'ere?" His voice was filled with a snarky feel that ticked the Russian man off.

His violet eyes bore through the other's. "I'm here to pick up Jdhuli, da?"

At this point, the girl was signed out, and Hungary came to the Frenchman's recuse.

"Get out of here Oroszország. The child is under my protection." She snarled to her ex-possessor.

The large man towered over the Hungarian in an attempt to make her bite her tongue. When the other did no such thing, he smiled. France watched as they glared at each other. He left with Jérôme to start the car so they could get the girl out of there as fast as they could.

"You v'ere always the defiant one, da? Maybe v'e can fi–"

The one from before rushed between them in a fit of laughter. Russia's smile faltered as his gaze followed the contours of the chair, to the person's face. Right there, as though it had been forever, sat Julie in a grey-colored wheelchair.

"You know," she started with a wide, crooked smile plastered on her face, "once you get the hang of this, it's kinda like a… a… a bike? All I need is two pairs of rockets on either side, and I'll be a one man army!"

Julie made fake guns with the pointer fingers of either hands; "Pew! Pew, pew, pew! Pew, pew, pew!"

Hungary smiled sweetly; the girl was just too much. "It seems that you've become accustomed to your new situation."

"Yes…" the girl trailed off. "but I'll still need Jérôme to help me with stairs and cars."

"When will I be allowed to walk again? I don't want to gain weight from idleness."

The female nation just couldn't take it anymore. She let out a loud burst of laughter. "You're just like me when I was younger! But I'm not old yet." She winked at the younger girl. "Don't worry Yuhlia, I'll make sure you'll exercise. By the end of the month, you'll be very toned."

The other stared with wide eyes. "_Toned_? 'Never though I could be _toned_. That'd be cool."

She looked between Russia and Hungary before realizing who was there. Her lips struggled with the proper accent and the letters that seemed to disappear behind their comrades. "Puh- pruh- preiviette! Was that right?"

Ivan squatted down in front of her and stared at her for a bit. Her hair had that fluffy, whipped chocolate look to it, and her cheeks were both high and full. Her eyes were perfectly framed under the massive, triangular, pleated eyebrows of her face. Sure, she was lovely, but she wasn't like the other pretty women of the world; thin necks and faces – with dainty noses hung above full, acrylic red lips. She looked like the child she acted like, but he was quite sure if he pulled back her hair into a slicked back bun and ripped the innocent look from her, she could be another Marilyn Monroe.

He puled himself from his mind, back to the real world. "Privyet suggests that v'e are friends. Are v'e friends?"

"Da." She said with a serious look that soon cracked into a million giggles. "I love the way that sounds."

Hungary watched as the scenario unfolded before her. And if she told you one thing, it'd be that she didn't like it. It wasn't that she was in favor of convicting one man to an eternity of loneliness, but… she felt it was her duty to protect Julie.

And it only became worst as Russia picked up the girl, forcing Julie to wrap her arms around the Russian man's neck, and left the building with her. She ran after the two in an attempt to save the child.

_**SWL**_

The car swerved down the street to the entrance of the hospital where a tall figure was carrying a smaller figure. America parked haphazardly near the entrance, and raced out of the car. England yelled at the other as he got out and ran after him; "Slow down git!"

"Get your _fucking_ red hands _off __**my **_citizen!"

Arthur could see as Alfred pulled his .45 revolver from the right pocket of his coat. The girl let out a shrill scream; her face became twisted, and she cried out pleas for him to put the gun away.

"Please! I beg of you! Put it _away_!" She buried her head into the shoulder of the Russian man.

Ivan smirked as America tried to figure what he had done wrong. England angrily snatched the gun from the other and put it into his coat.

"This is what happens when you act too hastily, git!"

Hungary came bursting through the doors of the hospital as France ran to the situation.

"What have you done to her!" yelled Hungary into pure frustration; Julie had passed out in her fit of horror. Elizabeta shot America a signal, who nodded. She kicked Ivan in the back as the American dove to catch the girl. Both England and France couldn't believe what was going down. And next thing they knew, Jérôme was rushing to get the chair from the hospital lobby, Hungary was fighting off Russia – trying to get to the car, and America was buckling the girl in the backseat of his car.

France pushed both the human man and Elizabeta into the car. He hoped in, speeding off with the wheel chair in the trunk as Russia pulled his car out of its parking spot. America had already fled, pedal to the metal, leading the whole steeplechase.

_**LTR**_

The doors burst open; through them came England and France. They seemed jittery and wound-up, for an unknown reason. The yelling died – an unusual twist of fate.

"Ah," Germany spoke from the podium, "youh have arrived. Vhere iz zhe gurhl?" He stepped down and made his way around the table.

Francis caught his breath; "She iz in Amerique's room for safety reasons."

Ludwig quirked an eyebrow as he slowed. There had been no mention of security threats during the fiasco of last week. "Safety reasons?"

England butted in; "Russia is after the child. We don't know why, but he nearly kidnapped her at the hospital. She with America, because if Russia happens to attack, he's possibly the only one of us who can get back up quickly, as much as I hate admitting it."

Multiple gasps, scoffs, and murmurs went around the table. Russia was at it again!

The German sat there, and thought. This was going to be a bit difficult. They had resources, but so did Russia. He declared that the meeting was not to be canceled; everyone still had duties to attend to. But, in order to keep Russia off the child's trail, she was to be passed from country to country. All of the nations wrote their name on pieces of paper, and picked names, blindfolded. The list was written quite quickly, in order to finish before Russia came. It went a little bit like this;

Turkey

Australia

Canada

Austria

Portugal

France

Mexico

Poland

Belorussia

Netherlands

Romania

Greece

Chile

Romano Italy

Lithuania

Veneziano Italy

Latvia

China

Tunisia

Ireland

Iceland

Estonia

Hungary

Argentina

Brazil

South Korea

Ukraine

Scotland

Spain

Germany

Denmark

Japan

Morocco

Cuba

Sweden

Belgium

Thailand

Norway

Switzerland,

and so. Of course – Russia excluded.

So when Ivan happened to barge through the doors, full-fledged anger, and stumbled upon a _simple _world meeting, he put it on his list of things to do after the meeting.

_**DTN**_

America undressed out of his suit, which was completely drenched in manly American man sweat, and decided to take shower. He placed the dirty dress clothes on a nearby chair, and hurried to the other side of the room. He grabbed a towel from the little clothes pantry near the hotel's room bathroom. Alfred entered the shower and turned it on with a pull of the knob. He cursed loudly from the sudden spray of cold water, but slowly relaxed into the muscle-soothing hot water that came soon after.

The sound of water woke Julie from her hazy sleep. She tried to get up, but the pain in her torso brought her back down. She lifted herself from the bed with a grunt, and in a fog, began to undress. First the shirt, then the sweatpants. She kicked off the socks lazily and stripped from her bra and panties. Surprisingly, it felt good to be naked. Julie groped her way to a dresser and found a pair of guy's underwear. She shrugged and slipped on the white briefs, and then a pair of flannel red-white-n'-blue pajama pants.

The girl shuffled back to bed as unhurriedly as she could, in order to avoid any pain, and crawled under the covers. She fell back asleep, back into the mercy of her horrible nightmares.

America came out from the bathroom all refreshed, ready for bed, when he saw his young citizen already snuggled into it. He changed into a pair of briefs and began desperately searching for his favorite American Flag pj's. When he couldn't find them, he settled for his army pj's.

Alfred crawled into the sheets. "My pj's! How did she–? He then saw a glimpse of white and pulled the pj's down just a bit. "Dude! My underwear!"

And that's when he realized something. She wore nothing on top, and all you could see was her chest, partially covered by her hair. He gulped as he settled in the bed slowly. When the girl felt the bed dip, she latched onto him unconsciously, leaving America to deal with a growing problem all night.

From the doorway glared a pair of green eyes enviously.

**Translations; **

[Bonne journée, Monsieur France.] Have a good day, Mister France.

[…Tortellini Ripieni di Formaggio…] …Tortellini filled with cheese…

[Bonjour mes amis.] Good day my friends.

[Frankreich!] France!

[Monsieur Bonnefoy! L'hôpital m'a téléphoné! Julie s'est réveillé de son coma hier!] Mister Bonnefoy! The hospital just called me! Julie has woken from her a coma yesterday!

[…Peugeot 107…] Check this awesome French junk out here; _http:/ . com /2008/10/ nice-red-peugeot-107 .html_ Just connect the spaces.

[Italien! Gehen Sie schneller!] Italy! Walk faster!

[Guten Morgen.] Good Morning.

[Entschuldigung…] Sorry…

[…Tempest colored Renault Clio…] More awesome French junk here; _http:/ . uk/haywards-heath/used-cars/renault-clio/ renault-clio-tempest -SN5826139_ Just connect the spaces.

[…Oroszország.] …Russia.

[Privyet…] Informal 'Hello…'

* * *

**Okay, well, the list is true. Whereee… going around the world in eighty days, 'X' marks the spot. Comma, comma, comma, comma, ques-tion-mark. See ya'll too-murrow!**


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